


Three Little Words

by latelyllama



Series: Wiccan+MCU [3]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2019-07-14 02:12:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 68,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16030853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/latelyllama/pseuds/latelyllama
Summary: At Billy's suggestion, Doctor Strange begins training Wanda in the ways of the Mystic Arts. He has his own reasons for training both of them, which he hopes remain secrets. But through great tragedy and the return of an old friend, the whole world faces disaster in a way that may be too great to overcome.





	1. Magic Meet Magic

It was always easy to tell if Tony Stark was at the compound. You only had to listen for the sound of ACDC or Black Sabbath or some other rock band blasting through the halls and rooms screaming at you that Tony was working in his lab. Wanda had no idea how he could stand to listen to it, or how he could stand it being so loud. She preferred slower, calmer music, but then she also knew it wasn’t just music to Tony. It was a backdrop for his work, a way to drown out everything else that might distract him so his focus was entirely on one project. In a way, Tony’s ability for singular focus was admirable, other times it was a nuisance. Now was the latter as Wanda tried getting his attention.

“Tony!” she tried calling over the blaring music.

Tony didn’t hear it, too busy as he was twisting holograms around, bouncing data across his screen way too fast for a normal person to read and generally doing far too many things at once.

“Tony!” she called again.

No response. She was tempted to ask FRIDAY to switch the music off, but knew it would be no good. Nobody touched Tony’s music, except for him, and Pepper, and Rhodey, and Happy, and she was pretty sure she’d seen Peter do it as well. Ok, quite a few people could touch his music, but not her. There was nothing for it. She let her energy flow from her fingertips, wrapping a small bolt in a red glow. In one graceful movement, she arced it across the cluttered room so it hit Tony’s shoulder, not hard but hard enough that he would notice. The engineer startled slightly, before turning and seeing her stood in his lab. He flicked his hand and the music shut off. The sudden silence was almost as deafening as the music had been.

“How long have you been standing there?” Tony asked, as though she had interrupted a life or death situation.

Tony always was that way about his work, especially if it was day three of three consecutive days without sleep. How did Pepper manage it?

“I didn’t mean to disturb you but it’s kind of hard to get your attention, what with,” she said, gesturing to the ceiling.

Tony waved it away.

“Ah well, nevermind. To what do I owe this pleasure Ms Maximoff? Or is it Mrs Vision these days, I can never remember” Tony said with his usual air of suave confidence that Wanda only wished she had.

“Vision and I aren’t there yet, but it is about him” she said.

Tony suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

“Is this about how you do the private thing? Because I gotta tell you, I don’t really want to know” he said.

“What? No, it’s not.”

Tony wiped a hand across his forehead dramatically.

“Thank goodness. Though now I’ll admit I am just a tiny bit curious as to how that all works.”

Wanda took a deep breath and steeled herself. She was not going to let Tony Stark get under her skin.

“Stark” she warned.

“Sorry, sorry, you know, motormouth, you need to head me off at the pass. Please, what is it you need about Vision?” Tony asked.

“He’s having troubles with his arm” she said simply.

Now Tony looked confused.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean, he was having trouble lifting it above his head, like it just wouldn’t go” she said.

Tony dropped all joking pretences.

“Do you know what could have caused it? Has he been on any missions or anything lately?”

“Not for a while, but his last mission wasn’t combat anyway. I was wondering if you could take a look at him, since you know, he’s not really human” she said the last part while trying not to sound ashamed of that fact.

She wasn’t. She had known Vision was an android since the day she met him, the day he had been ‘born’ for lack of a better term. That hadn’t mattered. It hadn’t stopped her from appreciating him trying to help her during the issue with the Accords, nor from feeling no ill will when they met in Germany on opposing sides of the conflict. In those stolen moments around the world when she’d been on the run, she realised that she loved this man, the vibranium body and mind stone didn’t come into it. She had been devastated to come back and find him still dead, only to be beyond happy when Tony and Shuri announced they’d managed to bring him back in a new body, minus the mind stone. This Vision knew nothing of what had happened with Thanos, but remembered everything else, and Wanda had been happy to get on with her life, maybe find that sense of normalcy they’d both been craving where they could live their lives like everyone else.

“And I’m the closest thing he’ll ever have to a doctor. Sure thing, I’ll take a look” Tony said, completely genuine, with no hint of a joke.

“Thank you” was all she could say to him.

Their relationship had come a long way since she’d joined the Avengers. From mutual distrust to something workable for both of them, to hatred on her part to breaking new ground again. It was something she was grateful for, and something she was keen to keep working on.

“Is he here? I can look at him now” Tony asked.

“He’s with Steve in Washington, making sure that Ross’s bill is completely dismantled.”

“Ok, well send him around when he’s back.”

She thanked him again and turned to leave. She had barely taken a pace when the music started blasting again, making her cover her ears until she was out in the cool corridor. She’d send Vision a message to let him know, but until then, she could relax a little it.

 

_Fight! Fight like your life depends on it! Because one day, it might do._

Mordo’s words rang clear in his mind as Strange stepped into the middle of the room, with Billy stood opposite him. The Sanctum was surprising him even now after all this time, showing him a training room when he found he needed one. It was a large open space with wide windows letting in the light. To his right was a door leading to the library and above that a balcony so people could watch if need be. Today, nobody was there. Strange had decided it was long past time that Billy learned to fight. Oh sure, the teen could handle himself, but he felt it best that he know how to fight hand to hand. Strange had just gone along with it when he was trained this way. He’s already been out of what he considered learning magic at all, so how weird could hand to hand combat be? Billy never had that, even after Strange had agreed to train him, but today he would start.

“Conjure a weapon” he said, echoing Mordo in his head.

Billy shook his head slightly, as though he didn’t really see the point in this. But true to form, he did it anyway. Pressing his hands together, he focused. Bright blue energy sparked between his fingertips, forming a long strand. Strange conjured his own weapon, a sword of orange magic, and bore down on Billy. Billy was taken aback, though he countered as best he could. But not good enough as Strange was able to break his magic with ease.

“No fair, I wasn’t ready” Billy said, annoyed.

“You won’t always be ready. You won’t always get the chance to create the perfect defence. Sometimes we have to do what we can with what we have. Now again.”

Billy eyed him with suspicion but did as he was told, again forming a whip. Strange attacked, swinging his sword high. Billy was better prepared. He deflected the blow and swung the strand of energy, hoping to tangle the sword. It worked and they found themselves in a lock.

“Good” Strange said.

His weapon vanished, knocking Billy off balance. Strange was on him in an instant, closing the distance. Billy tried again with his whip, but it was too long. Strange aimed a punch but Billy was able to turn it aside, catching it on his arm. The familiar jolts of pain ran through Strange’s arms at the exertion but he pushed through it, raining more blows on Billy. Billy fought well, ducking and diverting the punches, before kicking at Strange. He conjured a shield, taking the blow and pushing against it. Billy was pushed to the floor, but he shot back to his feet and placed his hands on Strange’s shield. His eyes flashed a bright blue.

“ **Break the shield** ” he said.

His voice seemed to ring for a moment, and bright cracks formed, breaking through the lines and pattern of the shield before it exploded in bright sparks. Billy formed a new whip but Strange rose above the room, the Cloak of Levitation billowing around him.

“That’s enough” he said.

Billy’s arms fell to his side, the whip crackling away to nothing.

“What did I do wrong?” he asked.

“I’m trying to teach you to be a Master of the Mystic Arts and you insist on using magic in untempered ways” Strange said.

“What do you mean?” Billy asked with a frown.

Strange landed in front of him.

“Breaking my shield. That wasn’t the Mystic Arts, that was your magic.”

Billy looked at his feet, guilt on his face.

“I’m sorry. I don’t even realise I’m doing it sometimes” he said.

“I know Billy” Strange said, dropping his sharp tone, “that’s why I keep saying you need to use magic the way I’m teaching you.”

Billy’s head shot up.

“I can use magic like you do!”

Strange took a step back and gestured, the request obvious. Billy’s face shone with determination as he traced out the pattern that had become second nature to Strange, the same pattern he’d been shown all those years ago by the Ancient One. Billy’s hands shook. The magic shone, forming the familiar glyph, though it looked as if Billy was gouging the pattern into the air, and to Strange’s disappointment, it was blue, not orange. By the time he finished, Billy looked glad to be done.

“See? I can do it” he said semi-triumphantly.

Strange nodded.

“Yes indeed, you produced the glyph. But did it really take that much effort?” Strange asked.

Billy looked disappointed as well.

“I don’t know what to tell you. It just doesn’t come as easily to me.”

“Magic isn’t something you can force. Rivers flow where they will and you can only flow with them” Strange said.

Billy chuckled slightly.

“Now that sounds like the Ancient One.”

“Whatever else she may have been, she taught magic to hundreds, maybe thousands, of students, so I’m inclined to believe she knew what she was talking about.”

Billy avoided looking him in the eye.

“I’m sorry. I’ll try harder” he said.

“I know you will.”

Strange reached out a hand to Billy’s shoulder.

“You have a power over magic that is unique among even the Masters. We train because it would be disastrous if left untamed” Strange said.

“It’s not as if I’m the only one who uses magic without training” Billy said.

He walked away but Strange’s curiosity was peeked. Who was he talking about? He followed Billy through the library, Billy shedding the training gear into more comfortable clothes as he walked.

“What do you mean?” Strange asked.

“I mean that if untamed magic is such a concern of yours, then maybe you should be training Wanda as well” Billy explained.

Strange frowned.

“Come on, you mean to tell me that a Master of the Mystic Arts hasn’t noticed?”

“I thought she was just telekinetic” Strange said.

“I guess it looks that way, but when she used her powers on me a few months ago, it felt … familiar, I guess.”

Strange mused. He hadn’t had much to do with Wanda Maximoff, or really any of the Avengers, all that much since Thanos. The first and last time he’d met a large number of them was during the last battle, when they’d thrown everything they had at the purple bastard and he still kept fighting. It was like he couldn’t be stopped, but Strange kept faith in that 1 in over 14 million chance of their victory. And they won. Barely. But they recovered, and the universe had as well, though everyone knew the name Thanos, and knew to fear it. He remembered Wanda’s powers, how the mist like energy had flowed from her fingertips, how her eyes shone a deep red as she did so. It certainly could be magic, or it could just be magic-like telekinesis.

“So? Are you going to ask to train her?” Billy asked.

“I’ll wait and see. Keep my eyes open so to speak” Strange said, “now I believe Wong has a history test he wants you to do.”

Billy groaned and Strange was left with many new thoughts. Could Wanda be trained? What would happen if she wasn’t?

 

The table whirred as the robotic arms moved systematically over it. Thin veils of light snacked and probed every inch of the figure lying down. It wasn’t strange for Wanda to see people being examined on tables. It was a fairly common sight, especially after particularly difficult missions. However, seeing Vision being examined as such brought back bad memories of things she would rather forget.

_Wanda please, we are out of time._

Wanda blinked the thought away. This was different. This was Tony’s table, checking Vision over to see what was wrong. The man himself was stood behind a bank of holographic screens. With each pass of the robotic arms, more data appeared. Tony’s eyes were flicking between each piece, his brow furrowing with each line read. It didn’t bode well, Wanda thought. The machine completed its scans and Vision sat up. Tony casually flicked the screens to one side and approached the table.

“Lift your arm up” he said, almost like a medical doctor.

Vision obliged.

“Have there been any changes? Is it worse than it was, or better?” Tony asked, poking and prodding at Visions shoulder with his own fingers.

“I believe it is slightly better. I have full range of movement, but it feels … stiff, like the joints are seizing up” Vision said, demonstrating the motion.

It did seem slow, and the arm shook slightly as it reached its highest point. Tony frowned even harder, bringing the screens back in front of him and frantically scrolling through the data.

“Is something wrong?” Wanda asked.

Please let nothing be wrong, she thought. But wait, if nothing was wrong, then what had happened to Vision? Why was his arm stiff?

“That would be the million dollar question. See this” Tony said, showing them the screen properly.

There was a schematic breakdown of Visions arm displayed, with various graphs and charts labelled on it. It didn’t mean much to Wanda.

“Visions arm” was all she could say that wouldn’t make her sound completely stupid.

“Exactly, and a grand total of zero faults” Tony said.

“What?” Wanda said.

“That can’t be right” Vision said.

“But it is. I cannot find anything that would be causing stiffness in a vibranium infused synthetic tissue based android arm, and yet apparently there is, even a blind man could see it” Tony said.

There was silence between the three of them. Worry began to pool in Wanda’s stomach. This must be what it’s like to hear less than good news in a doctor’s office. Tony’s brow was creased more than she’d ever seen it, but then in an instant, it relaxed and Tony was back to his usual above everything demeanour.

“Mind if I send my scans to Shuri? She was the one to actually make the body, she may have put something in that I don’t know about. Who knows?” Tony asked.

They both nodded and left with his assurance that he’d tell them when he heard back from Shuri. As they walked back to their quarters, Wanda couldn’t help but glance at Vision every few seconds. He was still flexing his arm as though trying to work the stiffness out of it. Maybe that was what he needed. Maybe Wanda had jumped the gun by having Tony take a look. Vision had been becoming more and more human. Right after his creation, he’d struggled to express his feelings, and then after he struggled to put them into words. Now, he was just like most people, if slightly naïve about certain things. Maybe becoming more human meant experiencing human aches and pains. But then his body was still synthetic so it should work properly unless there was a fault. The thoughts raged through Wanda’s head so much so she didn’t notice they were passing their door.

“Wanda” Vision said.

Wanda snapped out of it. Vision was holding their door open, concern on his face.

“I’m the one who should be worried about you, not the other way around” she said.

“I’ll always worry about you. And I’m confident that if something is seriously wrong then Mr Stark and the Princess will be able to find it” Vision said.

She sat down on the end of the bed and Vision took the chair opposite. Their room was cosy, filled with small things which Wanda found comforting, that made her think of home. Vision had even added to the décor with his new passion for stargazing. His telescope was set up by the window.

“What are we going to do about dinner?” Vision asked.

“What?” Wanda said, lost in her own thoughts again.

“”Since most of the Avengers are off sit, either at the tower or elsewhere, what are we going to have for dinner?” he asked.

“I don’t know. We’ll have to see what’s in” Wanda said offhandedly.

She was still thinking about what Tony said. A grand total of zero faults. But that couldn’t be right. She felt Vision delicately take her hand.

“Wanda, we cannot let this worry get in the way” he said, his voice reasonable and calm, smoothly disarming her worries, “we must continue doing what we do, whether it be extraordinary like saving lives, or ordinary like having dinner.”

“I guess you’re right” she said with a small smile.

Vision returned her smile with one of his own. The sun was setting, casting the room in a soft orange light. Vision placed a kiss gently on her forehead and she leaned into the touch. Wanda was not one for grand gestures, she’d had enough of big things in her life, and so the little things like this were felt and appreciated so much more. She would have stayed like this forever but there was an urgent knock on the door, jarring them both from the moment.

“Captain Rogers?” Vision said when he answered it, “what can we do for you?”

Steve Rogers was stood in the threshold, dressed in his combat gear with his shield slung over his back. He looked serious.

“There’s a disturbance in town, we’ve been asked if could check it out” he said, all business.

“And you want us for backup?” Wanda asked.

“Steve nodded.

“I don’t mean to disturb you, but everyone else is either unavailable or recovering from missions of their own” he said.

“We understand. When do you need us ready?” Vision asked.

The slowly untying knot in her stomach suddenly clenched tighter again.

“Wait, Vision you can’t!” Wanda said.

Steve frowned at her.

“We don’t know why you’re arms gone stiff. What if going on a mission makes it worse?” Wanda said.

Steve looked to Vision for confirmation.

“I haven’t forgotten, nor have I forgotten the other responsibilities that I have. Wanda, I know you’re worried as nothing like this has happened before, but I don’t want that to interfere” Vision said.

“All the same, everyone needs time to recover when they’re injured. You can still be useful Vision, you can coordinate from here” Steve said, before turning to Wanda, “suit up and be ready in five.”

 

The air seemed to crackle with a furious intensity, sending sparks down Strange’s spine. This place has known magic, and dangerous magic at that. From the outside, it looked like a normal tenement building, if slightly run down. Upon entering, Strange and Billy found it uncomfortably deserted. There was not a sign of life. The lights flickered, casting long shadows on the wall. Billy looked unnerved, and Strange didn’t blame him. Around every corner, behind every door, he was expecting all manner of weird things to jump out and attack them. This building should have been full of people, so where was everyone?

“I don’t like this” Billy said under his breath.

“Brave heart Billy” Strange said.

They made their way up the stairs, checking each floor as they went. They didn’t know where this had started, so they had to be sure. Each floor was much the same: charged atmosphere and disturbing lack of people.

“What do you think happened?” Billy asked on the fourth floor.

“I’m not sure, but this was definitely magic” he said.

“And the people? Are they dead?”

“Let’s hope not” Strange said.

A creak had them both jumping into action, Strange conjuring shields and Billy holding crackling lightning in his hands. It came from beyond the door to the stairwell, from where they had just been. Strange and Billy exchanged readying look and inched forward. The door was pushed open carefully and they were met not by the fangs and claws of some horrifying creature, but the shield of Captain America leading the charge. The man so named was not far behind, gripping it tightly, with Wanda bringing up the rear.

“Stand down Captain, it’s only us” Strange said, dropping his shields.

Steve lowered the shield and surveyed them both.

“Strange. Billy” he said in greeting.

Billy and Wanda exchanged a small wave.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asked them.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Strange asked more pointedly.

Steve looked as though he was considering pressing his own question but thought better of it, dropping his shield to his side.

“We got reports of a strange disturbance and were asked to check it out. You?”

“Pretty much the same, except we weren’t asked” Strange said.

“We’ve checked the top three floors and couldn’t find anyone” Wanda said.

She too looked uncomfortable like Billy.

“There should have been over eighty people in this building. Where did they go?” Steve said, his eyes boring into Strange as though answers should be readily presenting themselves.

“No idea, but we’ve still got three more floors to check” Strange said.

“But we’ve already…” Steve said.

“With all due respect Captain, you don’t know what you’re looking for. Whatever this is, it’s magic, I can feel it” Strange said.

And I’m guessing so can you, Strange thought, watching Wanda. She seemed a lot more reserved than Billy had described her as being, her eyes constantly darting around in a way that Steve’s weren’t. Strange understood the feeling. Together, they moved to the floor above. Strange pushed open the door to the floor and knew immediately this was it.

“Watch your step” he warned, cautiously moving into the corridor.

Billy followed and shuddered.

“You can feel that?” Strange asked.

“It’s like a really creepy guy’s whispering in my ear” he said, shuddering again.

“What is it?” Wanda asked.

Steve looked between the three, confused.

“That, Wanda, is magic. Raw and unchecked. Whoever did this had no idea what they were doing.”

It was easy now to find the source, he only had to follow the feeling, ignoring the prickling in his skin and shaking in his hands that he was too proud to admit wasn’t entirely due to their damage. The ominous feeling led them to one of the apartments.

“I think I know what happened to the people” Strange said as he pushed open the door.

Inside, the apartment seemed normal, but looking closer, the air seemed wrong. It was strangely shifted and distorted, very visible lines ran through it like broken glass.

“Is that?” Billy asked.

“The Mirror dimension. Someone ripped open a portal to the Mirror dimension” Strange said.

What should they do now? Strange wracked his brain, trying to find a solution. He’d used the Mirror dimension many times before, he understood how it worked. You could open a portal to it like a tear, to either go to it willingly or to otherwise force someone else to go there. But those kinds of portals faded fairly quickly after there are made, the undetected nature of the dimension sealing off the access. For it to remain like this, whoever made the portal hadn’t understood what they were doing.

“But this room was empty when we checked it” Wanda said under her breath.

“Then you were lucky” Strange said, “somebody was messing around with the Mirror dimension and practically tore a hole in it, pulling everyone in the building into the Mirror dimension.”

“Can we get them back?” Steve asked.

“With any luck” Strange said.

He stepped confidently into the room, rhythmically moving his hands, the cracks and lines fading as he did so. The ominous feeling subsided slightly as well.

“What are you doing? I thought we were getting the people back!” Wanda said.

“We will, but if this isn’t fixed then it’ll only keep causing problems.”

After only a few minutes more, the apartment was returned to its normal state. Only now did Strange realise that the Mirror dimension wasn’t the only thing wrong here. The furniture was dishevelled, with suspicious slashes burned into it. Photo frames were smashed with the glass strewn over the floor. Mirror dimension aside, Strange thought, something happened here.

“Must have been a hell of a party” Billy said, “we should ask them when they get back.”

“Speaking of which” Strange said “I’ll need your help.”

“What?”

“You and I both know there are dangers in the Mirror dimension. We need to get them out now.”

“Ok, and how do we do that?”

“The teleportation spell you use to get around…”

“Because you won’t let me have a sling ring” Billy muttered.

“…we’ll use that. I’ll guide you to them then you can bring them out.”

“But you told me I shouldn’t use my magic like that” Billy said.

It’s good to hear he’s taken my words to heart, Strange thought, if only it was in a less serious situation.

“I said you needed to be careful so you don’t lose control, but you won’t because I will be there guiding you every step of the way.”

He held out his hand. Billy took a deep breath and clasped it with his own.

“Focus your breathing. Let your spirit move freely” Strange said.

It was as if the world around them desaturated, the sounds growing slightly muted and the colours slightly dull.

“Move to the Mirror dimension. Find the people.”

Strange could feel Billy’s spirit, still well within the confines of his body, shift. All Strange needed to be was a guiding hand. The Mirror dimension was all around them, one only needed to focus, and know what to look for, to find it.

“I feel them” Billy said.

“Then focus, and bring them back.”

Billy’s grip on Strange’s hand tightened. He muttered under his breath, a habit he claimed helped him focus on what he wanted. Energy sparked from Billy’s body, dancing in the air around them for a brief moment before streaming off through the building. Steve and Wanda jumped in surprise. Billy’s breathing increased in pace but he did not stop his muttering. Come on Billy, Strange thought, just a bit more. The magic coming from Billy pooled near the torn up sofa before there was a blinding flash. He heard two thuds, followed by many more throughout the building as the people were returned.

“Billy!”

Billy practically collapsed into him, exhausted by the exertion. Strange held onto him and eased him to the ground. Wanda rushed to his side, examining him and making sure he was alright. Steve also rushed to someone, the person who lay next to the couch. She was in a crumpled heap on the floor, her muscles twitching and spasming slightly as she tried pushing herself up.

“It’s ok, I’ve got you. You’re safe” he said to her.

The woman, who had been close to panic, calmed slightly when she saw Captain America.

“What happened here?” Strange asked her.

The woman pointed as best she could to the corner of the room by the front door, and very croakily said “him” before passing out. Strange followed her finger and saw someone else, another person who had been returned by Billy. They were hooded so he could not see their face, and braced against the wall. Strange knew that Billy’s teleportation took a bit of getting used to, so he wasn’t surprised to see the person recovering. There was something about them that was familiar that he couldn’t quite place. Steve immediately stood, projecting a mighty aura of authority.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

The person said nothing. Completely ignoring the imposing figure of Captain America, he inched his way to the door.

“I said who are you? What are your intentions here?” Steve demanded again, closing the distance to the person and grabbing their arm.

The person twisted in his grip, slamming their palm into the centre of Steve’s chest. He collapsed immediately, unconscious.

“Steve!” Wanda cried, blasting energy at them.

The person conjured a shield, easily deflecting it. This person was a Master of the Mystic Arts. But who? The sudden quick motion had shifted the hood, knocking it back, letting Strange see the persons face clearly, and his heart sank. He knew who it was. He was a darker skinned man with short black hair, but it was the eyes, the eyes that burned with a stoic resolution that Strange knew most. The last he’d seen them, they were filled with disgust and distrust, walking away from him in Hong Kong.

“Mordo?”

“Strange.”

The two stared each other down. Strange inched closer.

“What happened here Mordo? Where did you go? We were worried about you” he said.

“I do not need your concern Strange” Mordo said, flashing his eyes over Billy and Wanda, “still leading others down your dangerous path I see.”

“Mordo, what are you doing here?” Strange asked.

The deadly calm that Mordo exuded was putting him on edge.

“Cleaning house” Mordo said before he lunged at him.

Strange was frozen in shock. Mordo was attacking him! Mordo’s clawed hand was wreathed in red energy, holding it in place before it struck his abdomen. Wanda had protected him. She blasted Mordo back into the wall, but he wrenched himself from her grip. Billy groaned and stumbled to his feet, still shaky. Mordo took in the three of them.

“This isn’t over Strange” he said.

He was fast. From beneath his cloak, he drew a short wooden staff, the Staff of the Living Tribunal, and swung it hard, once up into the roof and once down to the floor. Each impact came with a burst of magic. The ceiling crumbled and fell. Wanda whipped her hands up and caught the rubble. The floor cracked and splintered, threatening to fall. Strange hurried and cast a spell, keeping it together. The shaking sent Billy sprawling to the ground. Wanda gently laid the ceiling down to one side as Strange finished his spell and repaired the floor.

“Who was that? What did he do to Steve?” Wanda demanded.

Steve? Steve! Strange hurried over to the fallen soldier and examined him closely. He was unconscious but seemed otherwise unhurt.

“It’s like he’s still here, but not in his body. I don’t understand” Wanda said.

Her eyes were glowing red, obviously trying to read Steve. So he was thill there, but not in his body, Strange thought, I need to check. He entered the astral plane and watched his body begin its slow fall to the ground.

“Doctor Strange!” Steve called.

The Captain’s astral body was floating a short distance away, pinwheeling through the air. The astral Steve was flailing its arms and legs, making Strange think of that movie he’d seen about space and zero gravity.

“Relax Captain, I’ve got you” he said.

He guided Steve’s astral body back to his physical form and then re-entered his own body. Steve burst back to consciousness, springing to his feet ready for a fight.

“What the hell was that?” Steve asked.

“That was Mordo. Pushing out your astral form was a simple easy way to take you off the board” Strange said, hoping his clinical tone would mask the rampaging questions in his mind. What on Earth was Mordo doing here?

“Who’s Mordo?” Steve asked, Wanda also looking expectantly.

He caught Billy’s eye.

“An old friend. I have no idea what he was doing here, before you ask.”

Steve didn’t seem satisfied with this answer.

“Is it over? The magical disturbance or whatever it was?” Wanda asked.

“You tell me” Strange said.

This was more for his own curiosity than anything else. He could feel that it was over, the tear into the Mirror dimension was closed, the people were returned, but if Wanda could feel it too then that meant that Billy was right and she was using magic. Wanda closed her eyes and focused, before breathing a sigh of relief.

“I think so.”

Strange smiled. She could definitely feel the magic, so her powers were also magic.

“So it’s over?” Wanda asked, eyebrow raised.

“Yes. Have you ever considered learning to harness your powers?” Strange asked.

Wanda’s eyebrow remained raised, her confusion obvious.

“Of course, how do you think I got to where I am now?”

“I mean properly harness it, learn it properly” Strange said.

“He means your powers are magical and he wants to teach you” Billy said.

“Way to flatten my setup Billy.”

“Well you were taking forever.”

“Magic? My powers aren’t magic” Wanda said firmly.

“You could feel the disturbance here, just like Billy and me. You have a connection to the dimensional energies that the Masters of the Mystic Arts harness to use magic. Yes, your powers are magic” Strange said.

“Avengers!” Steve called, stopping the conversation in its tracks, “ we have a building full of people who need our help, and this Mordo is still in the wind.”

“Right” Strange said, “everybody should be back where they belong unharmed, and Mordo will stay in the wind until he wants to come out again.”

This was true. Strange had tried looking for him, to seek his advice about certain matters but had been unable to find him. He drew out a card and handed it to Wanda.

“Please think about it, then give me a call. I think it would be best for all of us if you were in full control of your powers” he said.

He pulled on his sling ring and gestured for Billy. The portal opened. With a nod to the Captain and Wanda, he stepped through back to the Sanctum, with Billy following right behind him. He was still a little wobbly on his feet, but Strange wasn’t too worried. Billy would bounce back from this, he always did. Billy hobbled to a window and Strange joined him, looking out into the street beyond bathed in the light of the lamps. The world hadn’t stopped turning because of one small magical disaster, and Strange would see to it that it never did. The outside was quiet, a black van driving past was the only thing on the road.

“Do you think she’ll do it?” Billy asked.

“You know her better than me. What do you think?” Strange said.

Billy took a deep breath and shrugged. He didn’t know, and Strange didn’t either. Still, he’s made the offer. The ball was in her court now.

 

“What troubles you Strange?”

Strange was stood with Wong before the Windows of the World. Strange found them calming, listening to the waves crashing in the middle of the Pacific, the faint beats of the Amazon, the unending still of the Sahara desert, the world at peace, a reminder of what he had to protect. Whenever he found his mind troubled, he would look out of them. Not that he would admit to having a troubled mind, but then he wasn’t fooling anyone. Wong waiting patiently, knowing full well he would get his answers soon. Strange sighed.

“It’s Mordo.”

“What about him?”

“He was there at the tenement block, right in the middle of whatever that was.”

“You’re thinking that he caused the tear to the Mirror dimension?” Wong asked.

“I’d like to think that Mordo would be smart enough to realise that’s a bad idea” Strange said, sighing again.

“Then what is wrong?” Wong asked.

“There were signs of a fight. Something went sown in that apartment and it led to a huge rip in the skin of reality” Strange said.

The pounding waves were becoming too much, so Strange turned the dial. The window changed to show a quiet rural street with a car or two occasionally passing.

“Mordo may have turned his back on the Masters, but he was adamant about preserving natural law. He knows the limits and would be devout about not crossing them” Wong said calmly.

“I wouldn’t know, he didn’t exactly say much” Strange said.

He turned and walked away from the Windows of the World. The layout of the Sanctum was incredibly flexible, leading him back to the library via a quicker route than one would expect. Strange didn’t bat an eye. The Sanctum often reacted to thoughts and feelings, taking people to the rooms they needed to go to, which wasn’t always where they wanted to be.

“If Mordo is walking down a dangerous path, should we inform the Masters?” Wong asked.

Strange thought for a moment.

“No, we’ll see what happens. For all we know, Mordo got caught up trying to stop whatever caused the tear in the first place” Strange said.

“If that’s the case, let’s hope he did” Wong said.

Strange felt his phone buzz in his pocket. It was an unknown number, but Strange had a hunch.

“This is Doctor Stephen Strange, how may I help you?” he said, reciting his old greeting from his surgeons practice.

The formality usually worked to throw off any cold callers.

“Doctor, it’s Wanda. I’ve thought about it like you said.”

“And?”

“I’ll do it. When do you want to start?”

Strange smiled.

“As soon as possible.”

Mordo’s words echoed again in his head. Leading others down your dangerous path. But this wasn’t a dangerous path. It was a safer path. Strange was sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all.
> 
> This is my take on an MCU version of the House of M storyline from the comics, as well as something of a sequel to the first Doctor Strange movie. I hope both justice. If what I've got so far is any indication, this is going to be long and lots of hard work. But that's fine, I'm up for the challenge. I was originally going to wait until I'd written more, but I couldn't keep sitting on this so I thought I'd upload at least this first chapter.
> 
> As always, if you have any feedback or anything else you'd like to say, please feel free to let me know. There may be edits to this in the future depending on how things go with the following chapters, but I'd still like to hear what people think of this so far. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Any future uploads will be fairly spaced out as I will be busy with university and I do want to have more of this written before uploading more, so I hope you'll bear with me.


	2. Stolen Life

If this was the Wild West, Strange imagined there would be tumble weed drifting by right now. He stood on the balcony overlooking the training floor. Down to his left was Billy in his combat gear: black jeans, black t-shirt with cream sides, fingerless gloves and headband, with a raggedy red cape. Down to his right was Wanda. She was dressed in a simple training outfit of active wear. Strange had said she would be training so he guessed it was appropriate.

“Remember, this is just to see what Wanda can do already. Let’s try not to go too far” Strange said as he looked down upon them, staring across at each other.

“Whenever you’re ready” Billy said with a smile.

Wanda smiled too. They both readied themselves and she made the first move, sending a blast of energy at Billy. He deflected it. Lightning sprung from his fingertips and coiled around his body. Wanda blasted him again, the red clashing with the white electricity as Billy leapt to one side and avoided it. He sprung into the air, his body wrapped with a dull blue glow, holding him up. He floated around the edge of the room, easily avoiding Wanda’s blasts. Strange had made sure that there was nothing in the room for her to pick up and throw. This was a test of her magic, though he was wrong, there was something she could pick up. Wanda’s hands were wreathed in red energy and in a flash so was Billy. She pulled him towards her, down to the ground, but Billy had been ready. The coils of lightning leapt from his body. Wanda dodged most of them, but for the last she conjured a wall of red that took the hit. Billy landed. He hit his fists together and Strange saw the shine of blue as he created shields. Wanda was on him, but he pushed aside her punch to try and land a blow of his own. But Wanda must have been trained by someone as she countered and blocked his every attempt. Strange was impressed. She could use her magic well with physical combat. She slammed her palm to the floor, sending out a powerful red wave. Billy only avoided it by taking to the air once more. Wanda didn’t relent, she sent blast after blast at him. She’s trying to force him against the wall, Strange thought. Billy seemed to realise this as well, as he blasted lightning at her to break up her attacks and give him room to manoeuvre. One blast struck close to Wanda’s feet, knocking off her footing. Strange thought the fight was over, but Wanda was back on her feet and Billy did nothing to stop her. He didn’t fight back and Wanda took her shot, blasting him backwards so he hit the wall hard. Billy didn’t go down. He continued fighting as though nothing happened. Strange frowned. That was a stupid mistake, what was Billy playing at. Strange watched carefully and saw it. Practically invisible, a thin tendril of faint red mist blossomed from Wanda’s hands, shot through the air and hit Billy in the head. His eyes flickered red briefly upon impact. Then he stopped fighting, only dodging, letting Wanda manoeuvre him again so she could hit him into the wall. Each time this happened, Billy made the same mistake and he slammed into the wall. Finally, he didn’t stay in the air and slid down the wall. Wanda was on him, ready to keep fighting.

“That’s enough!” Strange shouted.

The red energy faded from Wanda’s hands immediately as Strange floated down to the training room. Wanda helped Billy back to his feet.

“Are you alright?” she asked him.

Billy flexed his back and winced slightly.

“I’ll be feeling that for a while, but yeah, I’m fine” he said.

Strange frowned again. Billy hadn’t noticed, he didn’t think anything was wrong.

“You did well” Billy said to her.

“You too. I thought you were going to beat me a few times” she said.

Either she was keeping it to herself or she hadn’t realised she manipulated Billy’s mind. Interesting. The pair turned their attention to Strange.

“Well, how’d she do?” Billy asked.

Strange masked his thoughts and kept his face neutral. If Wanda had used her telepathic power without meaning to, that could be dangerous, and all the more reason for her to be trained.

“I think we shall proceed.”

 

“Our world is surrounded by countless worlds that make up the multiverse”

He brought his hands together.

“The Masters of the Mystic Arts can harness energy drawn from these worlds…”

He moved his hands rhythmically, a pattern formed in front of him.

“…to do all kinds of things. We can create physical constructs, alter the nature of matter, travel great distances…”

The pattern was complete, a shining glyph in front of him.

“…in short, to do magic.”

He hit his hands against the glyph and it shimmered outward, the layers of patterning spreading out to fill the space between Strange and Wanda. Somewhere in some kind of afterlife, the Ancient One must be amused with him, Strange thought. It hadn’t been that long ago that she had shown him something very similar, gave him much the same explanation, and Strange was sure he had looked much the same as Wanda did now. She looked impressed and awed.

“That was incredible” she said.

“You mean to tell me that after everything that’s happened, that” he gestured to where the glyph had been “was the most incredible thing you’ve seen.”

“No, it’s just, you had so much control. I didn’t know if you could do it, what with your…” she stopped herself in her tracks and looked ashamed.

“I’m sorry” she said.

Strange knew where she had been going.

“Don’t worry” he said, “I didn’t think I could do it either. It took the Ancient One leaving me on Everest for me to finally do it.”

Wanda chuckled. She stopped when she saw he wasn’t laughing.

“Wait you’re serious!”

“Oh yeah.”

“You’re not going to do that to me, are you?”

Strange shook his head and smiled.

“No. You have a significant advantage over me. You can already use magic, you already have that connection” Strange said.

“I’m still not so sure about that. I mean, my powers came from the mind stone” Wanda said.

“True, but you could feel the magic, same as me, same as Billy, and Captain Rogers couldn’t. I think that’s fairly conclusive” Strange said.

“But I never learned any of that” she said, gesturing like he’d done to the air between them, “how can I use magic if I never learned it in the first place?”

“You want my theory?” Strange asked.

“You mean you don’t know” Wanda said.

“I mean that you present a complicated case. I don’t think we’ll ever be completely sure, but I have an educated guess.”

Wanda didn’t say anything so he continued.

“I think what happened was that the mind stone didn’t give you your powers so much as it unlocked your connection to the dimensional energy, the same energy that the Masters draw from to use magic. It presented in you as a raw, untamed form. HYDRA had no idea what it was, but saw that you could use it for telepathy and telekinesis so assumed that that’s all it was.”

“But how come I’ve never been able to do anything like what you can do?” Wanda asked.

“With magic, belief plays a role, and I don’t mean like a ‘pray to God’ kind of belief, more of a belief in yourself. Tell me, did you ever consider that your powers were anything more than what HYDRA told you they were?”

Wanda thought for a moment.

“No I didn’t” she said.

“Exactly, so why would your powers be anything other than what you thought they were. It’s entirely likely that even with training, your greatest strength in magic will be in telekinesis and telepathy, but you will only be stronger for learning magic properly” Strange said.

He felt like the Ancient One’s eye was on him again, just as it had been when he’d agreed to train Billy. If truth be told, he always hated teaching. It had been his least favourite part of working at the hospital, giving guest lectures to medical students. When he was speaking at conferences, he could talk in the most technical of terms and expect that the attendees would follow, but if they didn’t it didn’t matter, he was still getting paid. But medical students, he had to dumb himself down because there was an expectation that they were supposed to be furthering their educations by being taught by a practising doctor. It irked him to the point he’d asked, in none too polite terms, to not be asked to do it again. The dean of the medical school must have been intimidated because he was never asked again, though in hindsight there may have been complaints made about his ‘teaching’ style. So how he found himself with not one but two students was a complete mystery.

“So if I train with you, I might not be able to do all the things you can do” Wanda said.

“But you’ll be able to control your abilities much better” Strange said.

That was the most important point now for him. Wanda must learn control.

“So let’s get started” Wanda said.

“Yes, let’s.”

 

The training proceeded smoothly. Strange watched Wanda like a hawk for any sign that she was reading his mind. He would have done it, if he’d been able to do what she could. But she didn’t. So had she just been cheating, doing whatever she could to win the sparring match? No, she doesn’t seem like that sort of person, Strange thought. Which only meant that she’d lost control briefly, and hadn’t even realised she’d done it. Billy hadn’t noticed either, which meant the training was even more necessary. She mustn’t do that again. He showed her through the motions, just as he had been shown. She copied his forms, and listened to his explanations. She couldn’t read Sanskrit so it was a lot of hands on learning, which meant he spent a lot of time explaining things. She wasn’t like him, her questions were relevant and to the point whereas his had been almost like a challenge.

“Discipline in magic comes from discipline of the mind. Discipline of the mind comes from discipline of the…” he said.

“The body” Wanda finished for him.

“Correct.”

“Natasha told me something like that when she was teaching me to fight” Wanda said.

“So it was the Black Widow who trained you” Strange said.

“Is that a problem?” Wanda asked.

“No, just curious. Now we should be ready to try it.”

Their forms had been drilled through a regular rhythm, but Strange changed it now. He led her to the beginning of the spell to make the glyph. She followed his lead, moved her hands in the round circular motions. His glyph shone with little effort, but for her, there was only sparks. When they finished, she threw her hands to her sides in frustration.

“But I did everything you did!” she said.

“Relax. The more you try and force it, the harder it will be.”

“Maybe you’re wrong, maybe I’m not using magic and it just looks like it” Wanda said.

Strange didn’t blame her for her frustrations. They’d been at it for most of the day, but this was only her first attempt and Strange was certain.

“Take a moment and try again” he suggested.

Wanda did so, taking a deep breath. She followed the motions again. Strange watched her. Her hands were moving like they should, but no magic. There must be something else stopping her.

“I don’t know what’s wrong” she said.

“Yes you do. The only thing limiting you right now is your attitude” Strange said.

Why did the Ancient One’s words come so easily in these moments? Because she knew how to get what she wanted from stubborn students, that’s why.

“You think I’m not trying !” Wanda snapped.

“I know you are. Sometimes the things that hold us back aren’t always obviously connected to the task at hand” he said.

Wanda shook her head. Strange didn’t feel anything by it. He understood her frustration but he wasn’t yet at the point of Everest with her. He needed to find what was holding her back, so he took a stab into the dark.

“How’s Vision?” he asked.

Wanda’s head shot up.

“Why do you ask?”

“I’m just wondering. I haven’t seen him all that much, I’m wondering how he’s coping” Strange said.

“Coping with what?” Wanda asked.

So something was wrong with Vision. That would certainly explain things. Training takes her away from him, meaning she won’t be there if something happens. If she can’t get the hand of magic, then maybe Strange would stop the training and she could be closer to Vision. Possibly, Strange thought.

“Wanda, is everything alright with Vision?” he asked.

Wanda sighed.

It’s probably nothing. He’s got some problems with his arm which nobody seems to know what’s wrong” she said eventually.

“And you’re worried that it’s something serious and you won’t be there because you’re here” Strange said.

There was no judgement in his voice at all. He understood. He’d seen families at the hospital spend every possible second by their loved ones sides, resisting any attempt by the doctors or nurses to see to their own needs. Of course Wanda would be feeling the same way.

“He told me I should give this a try. He said ‘we can’t let out lives stall for fear of bad news’.”

“He’s not wrong” Strange said.

“I know I’m being ridiculous, but I just can’t help shake this feeling” Wanda said.

“I know. But Vision’s right. You’re never going to get anywhere in your life if you’re constantly worried about getting bad news. Today it’s about Vision, but tomorrow it could be that the trains have been cancelled, then your favourite sports team lost the big game, or you’ve run out of carrots for the stew. You can’t let yourself live like that Wanda, it’s not good for you, or for Vision.”

Wanda nodded.

“Ok, I’m trying again” she said.

She readied herself and began the motions, moving through the forms gracefully.

“Remember how your powers feel when you use them, try and find that feeling again” Strange said.

Wanda began the motions for the glyph. Her hands moved apart and there was a small flash as a bud of light formed. It followed both her hands in a thin line and as she moved, the glyph formed. With a proud flourish, she finished and the glyph shone in front of her.

“I did it!” she said, happiness flooding out in her words.

“Yes you did” Strange said, much more sedately.

Her glyph was solid and shone, yes, but it was a deep red, just as Billy’s was blue. Why did their magic present in a different colour? He didn’t have much more time to ponder as Wong and Billy entered the room. They were laden with books from Billy’s other studies.

“Did you do it?” Billy asked.

Wanda nodded and did it again, her glyph shining brighter from her renewed confidence. Billy smiled widely.

“It’s red” Wong commented.

“Is that a bad thing?” Wanda asked as the glyph faded.

“They’d say it is, but I think it’s alright” Billy said, before saying under his breath “mine keep coming out as blue so don’t worry.”

Strange didn’t say anything. Their magic was similarly different from his, but still different from each other’s.

“I think that’s a successful first day of training” Billy said.

“Definitely, now I need to eat” Wanda said.

“There’s a diner just a few streets away that we like” Billy said.

“Sure” Wanda said as she let herself be led away.

“Wait!” Strange called after them.

They stopped.

“Billy, do you have any money?” he asked.

Billy looked about shiftily.

“No, but I can make some.”

“Billy” Strange said warningly.

He sighed and handed the teen a few notes.

“Don’t go crazy and I expect to see the change” he said firmly.

“Thank you Doctor” Billy said.

“Are you not coming too?” Wanda asked.

“No, we’ve got some other work to do” Strange said, cutting off Wong before he could speak.

“Yes, other work” Wong said.

Wanda didn’t think much of that and let herself be led away by Billy. Strange frowned after them. Wong fixed him with a pointed look.

“I actually really fancied a sandwich” he said.

“Sorry but I need to pick your brains” Strange said, “what did Billy tell you about his sparring match with Wanda?”

Wong thought for a moment.

“Not much. He said she fought well but he made some mistakes which she didn’t let slip so she won.”

“He didn’t just make mistakes, it was the same mistake over and over again. And it wasn’t him, Wanda did something to him” Strange said.

“She reached into his mind to put his feet wrong?” Wong asked.

“Or whatever the term for it is when the person is flying, but yes, she did.”

“It’s a dirty trick” Wong said.

“Only if it wasn’t intentional, and I don’t think it was” Strange said.

Wong considered this.

“It might not be a good idea for them to spar again. If she is doing it unintentionally, manipulating Billy could have dire consequences” Wong said.

“That’s what I was thinking as well.”

“Are you going to tell her what she did?”

“No” Strange said.

“Why not?”

“For the same reason I’m not telling Billy the real reason I’m training him. I don’t want that knowledge getting in the way.”

 

Winter was still clinging to New York. The air outside was brisk so they both hurried back, their food clutched in their hands.

“How often do you guys go there?” Wanda asked.

They’d only taken one step into the diner when the owner, a lovely old Scottish lady called Mrs Mackintosh, had greeted Billy as if he was one of her own children and asked if he wanted the usual. Billy thought for a moment, smiling as he did so.

“I’d say at least once a week, maybe more. I like to go there to do schoolwork” he said.

“She seemed to know you quite well” Wanda said.

“Mrs Mackintosh? Oh she’s great.”

“And what was that she saying about a cute boy?” Wanda teased.

Billy’s cheeks flushed red.

“Oh my god, she did not tell you that” he said, embarrassed.

They both laughed. Wanda felt achievement pounding in her brain. For years, she had always thought that the red energy that flowed whenever she used her powers was just what her powers looked like. She could push it and pull it, flow it between her fingers, but never anything more. It moved like a mist that she could control. But now Strange was telling her that it was magic, and she’d been able to use it like she’s never done so before. She felt as though there was a spring in her step. It was like there was nothing she couldn’t do. She’d have to tell Vision, he’d be so proud of her. Vision. She had checked but there was no news, which she didn’t know if that was good or bad. Still, it was like he said, she couldn’t let life stall. Think of it like a doctor’s appointment, she told herself, those usually turn out fine, no problems. Mostly. No, she wouldn’t let herself think like that.

“So who is it?” Wanda asked lightly.

Billy eyed her with something like a glare, but she knew there was no real anger there.

“No, it’s not who you think” he said.

“Come on Billy, lighten up. I’m only teasing” she said, giving him a playful shove.

“I know, it’s just embarrassing” Billy said, though he trailed off to the end.

He frowned as a black van drove past them. He stopped in his tracks. Wanda watched after the van, unsure what was going on.

“Billy?”

He shook himself from whatever thought he was having.

“Sorry” he said.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing, it’s just, I thought I’d seen that van before.”

“Maybe it’s local” she suggested.

“Maybe” Billy said, though he didn’t seem convinced.

Better keep my eyes open for it, she thought, though she didn’t have much time to dwell on it. Despite her initial success, as she continued her training over the next few days, she found herself being challenged in ways she hadn’t thought of. Strange and Billy both worked hard with her, trying to get across the concepts that normally they would have had her read for herself. But she couldn’t, because she didn’t know Sanskrit. Billy took her through forms under the watchful eye of Doctor Strange, who would then briefly spar with her to see who well she was doing. The more she learned, the more she realised that magic was vast. Even the Sanctum itself was vast, far more so than it had any right to be. On the third day of her training, Billy was the one who answered the door. He led her up the stairs and through the collection of magical objects before turning right through a side door into the training room, whereas the day before she had followed Strange down a passage to the left that arrived at the same place.

“This place doesn’t make sense” she said.

“Not really” Billy agreed.

“How do you manage it?”

“I just think about where I want to go and start walking. You get there, eventually.”

It didn’t help that Strange would appear from nowhere when she least expected it, like he could go from room to room without moving a muscle.

“Ready yourself” Strange said.

She trained hard. The concepts were starting to get easier, and the magic flowed more naturally. She could now produce the glyph reliably, even if the other spells were still difficult.

“Don’t be discouraged Wanda. You’ve made excellent progress” Strange said to her.

“I know, I just feel like I’m missing something” she said.

She knew exactly what it was, thought she didn’t know if she could ask Strange.

“Ok, well you can think about it on the way to the diner” Strange said.

“Billy wasn’t kidding when he said you went there often” Wanda said.

“Mrs Mackintosh makes a delicious breakfast” Strange said.

“You’re going to the diner, mind if I come with?” Billy asked, appearing through a doorway followed by Wong.

“Sure. Wong, you coming?”

“Not this time Strange. I do not think I can justify her wasting her time on me” Wong said.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll bring you back some of her fries, she knows you love them” Strange said.

He gestured to Billy and Wanda.

“I think I’m going to stay here if that’s alright, to practice” she said.

Strange nodded and the two of them left, leaving via a door Wanda was sure didn’t lead to the entrance hall. Wong stretched and mumbled something about returning to somewhere, she didn’t recognise the name.

“Wong, wait” she said.

She hadn’t spoken much with Wong. Whenever she saw him, he was either discussing something with Strange or guiding Billy through his studies. It didn’t leave much room for chat, but she felt like she could ask him for help.

“How may I help you?” he asked.

His voice didn’t have the warmth it did when he spoke with Strange or Billy but at least he was polite.

“I see Billy reading all of these books, and Doctor Strange keeps referencing things he read when he’s teaching me, and I know it’s a pain for him to teach without them.”

Wong gave her a look, silently telling her to get to the point.

“Is there any way for me to learn Sanskrit so I can read the books as well? I think if would help me a lot” she asked.

Wong gave her a very brief, very small smile before beckoning her to follow him. He led her to the library and perused the shelves for a moment before pulling out three books.

“Beginner, intermediate and advanced Sanskrit” he said as he handed them over one by one, “give at least the first one a read and we can see about finding some books on the Mystic Arts for you.”

Wanda flicked open the first book and saw tables of letters and symbols. This was going to be a challenge, she knew it.

“How long will it take me to learn it?” she asked, trying to be lighthearted.

“That depends. Strange learned it within a few days, Billy is only on the intermediate book after a couple of years but that’s enough to decipher most spell books.”

“Right, ok. Thank you Wong” she said.

“My pleasure Ms Maximoff.”

 

“I’m sure I could beat her this time. Come on Doctor Strange.”

“No.”

“Why not, you spar with her. Why can’t I?”

Strange sighed. Billy wanted a rematch with Wanda. He hadn’t told either of them what happened in their first fight, and he didn’t want a repeat of that. He needed an excuse, and thankfully, one was readily available.

“I was watching that fight remember. I’ve been training her in the Mystic Arts and it seemed to me like you’d forgotten your own training” Strange said.

His voice was light but it had the effect Strange knew it would. Billy looked down, disheartened. Strange hated seeing him like this. He knew how hard Billy tried, and Strange was coming up empty handed trying to find a way to help him.

“It was the heat of the moment, I didn’t think” Billy said.

“Hey” Strange said, placing a hand on Billy’s shoulder “we’ll get there, don’t worry. It might take time but that’s ok.”

“We can’t all be like you” Billy said.

“Who’d want to be like me” Strange said.

“True.”

“Hey!”

Billy smiled, laughing. Strange couldn’t help but smile too. Billy froze in his tracks, his smile fading rapidly. Concern flooded through Strange like ice water. What was wrong? Billy continued walking, pulling Strange along.

“Don’t make it obvious, but do you see that black van that just passed us?” he said.

Strange looked over his shoulder, trying his best to be discrete. There was indeed a black van.

“I’m sure I keep seeing that van. The night we saw Mordo again and then the other day with Wanda when we were coming back from the diner” Billy said.

Strange smiled.

“You’re getting jumpy at a van. Honestly Billy, I thought it was something serious” he said.

“I know it sounds stupid, but I get a really bad feeling whenever I see it.”

“It’s nothing Billy, probably just a handyman going about his business” Strange said.

“I guess.”

They turned the corner and arrived at the diner. The door opened with the usual ring of the bell and out from the kitchen scurried Mrs Mackintosh. She was a very short woman with what looked to be quite flyaway hair wrestled into a hairnet. She took one look at the pair of them and beamed.

“Stephen! Billy!” she called out in greeting.

“Mrs Mackintosh” Strange said politely.

“Now Stephen, how many times have I told you to call me Sheila, far too many so let this be the last” she said.

Her voice could crack like a whip but then in the next breath be gentle. Strange smiled politely all the same. She turned her attention to Billy.

“Still not growing young man?” she said.

“I’m afraid not” Billy said.

“Well you will lad. All of my boys have towered over me and you’ll be much the same.”

Billy grinned and she patted his cheek.

“So what can I get you? The usual?”

“Please, with a portion of those fries that Wong loves” Strange said.

“On its way” she said as she scurried back into the kitchen.

Strange leant against the counter while Billy hopped up onto a seat, spinning idly. The sounds of food and drinks being prepared echoed from the kitchen. Billy suddenly swung himself around to face away from the large windows.

“That van’s pulling up outside” he said.

Strange caught a reflection on the metal of the cash register. The van had pulled to a stop, the engine still rumbling.

“I see it.”

Now he knew what Billy meant. He was definitely feeling something ominous coming from the van. Both of them kept their eyes resolutely forward, away from the door.

“What are we going to do?” Billy asked.

“Brave heart Billy, let’s see how this pans out.”

Maybe they were both over reacting to a perfectly ordinary person driving a perfectly ordinary van. It wouldn’t do to blow this out of proportion, especially since Mrs Mackintosh didn’t know about their magic. They waited with baited breath. Billy discretely slipped from the stool so he was standing by Strange’s side. They heard the chime of the bell and whipped around. Neither produced magic, though both were ready.

“A bit jumpy, aren’t you Strange?”

Strange knew this person.

“Jonathan Pangborn.”

There was no mistaking it, this was Jonathan Pangborn, the person who had told Strange about Kamar-Taj, the one who had provided him a beacon which let him fix his broken life. But this was all wrong. The last and only time he’d seen him, he’d been full of life playing basketball with not a care in the world for his horrendous injuries, or for the fact that what he was doing should have been impossible. Now he was more like what Strange imagined someone with his injuries to be like. The man was in a motorised wheelchair, his arms twisted and tense with very little movement. His face was slack, but his eyes were full of fire and aimed at Strange.

“You remember me! I see you’ve found Kamar-Taj. How’s your miracle working out?” he asked.

Strange held up his hands.

“Not exactly as you’d expect” he said, as his hands shook.

He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw triumph in Pangborn’s face.

“So you decided to learn the deeper secrets then. You’re a braver man tan me Strange.”

“Who is this?” Billy asked, disarmed slightly by the conversation but still suspicious.

“Jonathan Pangborn. I told you dad where to find Kamar-Taj. I would shake your hand young man but as you can see, I can’t” Pangborn said.

Strange was sure he heard bitterness there. This didn’t jive with the impression he’d gotten from Pangborn before.

“He’s not my…” Billy said but Strange cut across him.

“What happened? It thought you cured yourself at Kamar-Taj. How come you’re back in a wheelchair? Strange asked.

Pangborn fixed him with his fiery stare.

“That’s why I’m here Strange. I need you to fix me. I need you to undo what Mordo did!”

Mordo! Strange gestured to a nearby booth and Pangborn drove himself over. His arms had limited motion but enough to operate a joystick. Strange sat opposite him. Billy collected their order and waved away Mrs Mackintosh’s confusion.

“He’s an old friend we haven’t seen in a while” Billy said as he sat down.

“Alright, well just shout if you need anything” she said as she went back into the kitchen.

“Nice lady” Pangborn said when she was gone.

“Get to the point, what happened with Mordo?” Strange asked.

Pangborn sighed angrily.

“I was working in the ‘shop late one day. Nothing too out of the ordinary but then this guy in a hood shows up and starts talking about when I was brought to Kamar-Taj.”

“Mordo?” Billy said.

Pangborn nodded.

“He starts going on about how I was perverting power and had stolen it. Never mind that I didn’t steal anything, or what I had to go through to get that power, no, that didn’t matter. And then” Pangborn shuddered as though he was holding back sobs, “he took it. Mordo took my power and left me like this.”

He moved his arms as though to gesture to himself. A tear ran down his face. Strange and Billy exchanged a grave look.

“Mordo took your magic?” Strange asked.

“Pangborn nodded.

“If you don’t mind my asking, but you still knew it all. He didn’t take that away from you. Why didn’t you just reapply the techniques?” Strange asked tentatively.

He didn’t want to admit it, but this was disturbing him. Pangborn’s face was full of venom for a brief moment before it broke beneath his sorrow.

“Don’t you think I tried that? I tried everything! Everything I was taught at Kamar-Taj but none of it worked!”

He took a deep breath.

“I couldn’t go through it all again on my own, I didn’t know what else to do. But then I remembered that there was a New York Sanctum. I knew roughly where it was but there must be some magic in place or something to stop uninvited guests so I couldn’t find it. I waited. I hoped that I’d see someone I knew who could help me. I never thought it would be you.”

“So you’ve been driving around Greenwich Village all this time” Billy said.

Pangborn nodded. His face shifted again, almost pleading.

“Help me get my life back Doctor Strange. Please!”

There was nothing else to say, of course he would. They hurried from the diner and into the van. On closer inspection, it wasn’t so much a van as it was a car designed for a wheelchair user. Waiting behind the wheel was Pangborn’s sister, and Strange gave her the address of the Sanctum.

“Thank you for helping him” was all she said to him.

“I just hope that I can” he said to her.

They pulled up in front of the Sanctum. Pangborn thanked his sister and she drove off, leaving Strange and Billy to help get his wheelchair up the steps to the front door.

“Wong!” Strange called out when the door shut behind him.

Wong came quickly, appearing at the top of the stairs with Wanda close behind him.

“We were wondering where you’d … Jonathan Pangborn” Wong said.

He looked just as confused as Strange had been.

“But you were cured, you could walk.”

“We need a closer look, he’s had his magic taken from him” Strange said.

The five of them shifted, appearing suddenly in a room very much like the training room but with an examination table in the middle of it. Wanda hadn’t been expecting it so she stumbled slightly. Strange directed the wheelchair so they could easily lift him onto the table.

“Let me” Wanda said, having regained her composure.

Pangborn was gently wrapped in a veil of red energy and with a motion of her hands, he was lifted from the chair and onto the table. He seemed a little alarmed at first but then calmed once he was laid down.

“Well that was a weird feeling” Pangborn said.

Strange said nothing, instead he directed his magic into the table. The surface lit up with a criss-cross of lines. The light enveloped Pangborn until his whole being seemed to shimmer. Together, Strange and Wong raised their hands and from Pangborn’s body, a shimmering representation of himself in golden mist floated into the air. It moved as Pangborn did.

“Please try to keep as still as possible” Wong said.

“That shouldn’t be too much of a problem” Pangborn said, his voice betraying the bitterness in the statement.

Strange and Wong both worked their hands over the mist body. Occasionally they would mutter a word, or stream more magic over it, all while keeping their eyes watching for any difference or change. Billy and Wanda were stood away from the table. Neither of them would be any good right now. Strange could feel his face getting grimmer and grimmer. Wong wasn’t much better.

“It’s not good, is it?” Pangborn said.

Strange shook his head.

“Mordo didn’t just take your magic, he severed your connection to the dimensional energy. No wonder your techniques weren’t working” he said.

“Wait, Mordo did this?” Wong asked.

Strange nodded, still keeping his eyes on the mist body.

“Strange.”

Pangborn’s voice brought Strange’s attention back to him, though he knew what he was going to be asked. This was at least part of the reason why he only took on cases where he could succeed. It was mostly because of his ego, but there was a small part of him that didn’t like having to give people bad news. It may only be a small part, but it was there nonetheless and he was feeling it now.

“Can you fix this?”

Strange exchanged a brief look with Wong and sighed.

“I’m sorry Jonathan. I can’t.”

Pangborn was silent for a moment.

“Mordo has stolen my life” he said.

“I can take him to Kamar-Taj. If there is any hope of helping him, it’s there” Wong said.

The magic of the table faded and Wanda hurried forward to help Pangborn back into his chair.

“Did Mordo say anything else? Anything about why he did this?” Strange asked.

He needed as much information as possible. Mordo was a smart man, so Strange needed to be smarter if he was going to get ahead of him.

“I don’t know. He just said that there were too many sorcerers in the world” Pangborn said with a wince.

They led him through the passageways of the Sanctum. With each new sight, Pangborn winced. Strange guessed it wasn’t physical pain. More likely it was that every new exposure to magic, be it a relic or a book, was a reminder of what he lost. Strange thought he’d feel the same way if he’d been forced to walk through hospitals after losing his hands. They reached the door to Kamar-Taj. It opened on their arrival, the thin veil that separated the two locations only barely visible.

“Wong, the Masters of Kamar-Taj are the only ones who do any teaching, right?” Strange asked.

“Besides you, yes” Wong said.

“Are there any records of the people who’ve been trained, even if they didn’t go on to become Masters?”

Wong considered for a moment.

“I would have to find out” he said.

“Please do.”

Pangborn paused at the threshold, before turning back to face Strange.

“Thank you for this. I know there wasn’t much you could do, but I appreciate it all the same” he said.

“Good luck” was all Strange could say to him.

With a nod to Billy and Wanda, Pangborn turned again and Wong led him through. The air rippled as the passed through the veil into Kamar-Taj and the door closed behind them. Strange remained where he was, mulling everything over in his head. Time and again, the same questions pushed their way to the forefront of his mind. Mordo had taken Pangborn’s magic, but why? What did he hope to gain? And what did he mean by too many sorcerers?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've decided to upload the next chapter. I hope people enjoy it.
> 
> Please feel free to leave any feedback that you might have.


	3. The Third To Fall?

Contrary to popular belief, Tony’s lab was occasionally quiet. It was only when he really needed to focus did Tony blast the music so loud he was surprised people in the next state couldn’t hear it. Except he wasn’t, because the sound waves would diffuse far too quickly to carry over that distance. Still, he liked to imagine some spinster miles away was lying in bed awake grumbling about those darn kids when really it was him. No, he wasn’t childish. Not at all. Today had been comparatively slow day, but that meant that the lab was an absolute state. He’d fixed a glitch in Peter’s suit that was stopping the eyes from focussing, drawn up some designs for hyper efficient solar panelling, thought about which was better, dogs or cats, remodelled his workspace and possibly invented a way for the nanoparticles that made up his bleeding edge suit to teleport to him when he needed them so he didn’t have to carry the housing unit. It was a rough blueprint, a potential equation but it might yet work. He’d throw the idea around some more, maybe swing it by Bruce or Shuri. They’d like that kind of thing. He’d been working on so many different things he hadn’t bothered to clean up after himself. So Tony set himself one final task for the day. Operation ‘What Pepper did to my life’. He’d work on the name later.

“Boss, you’ve got an incoming call from Wakanda” FRIDAY said, her voice echoing slightly.

“From whom in Wakanda?” he asked.

Her answer would tell him if he needed to keep cleaning.

“It’s the princess, Shuri.”

“Ok, put her through on the table.”

The holo-table flickered into life. There were still papers all over it which he tried pushing to oneside, forgetting that he still had a web canister in his hand. It exploded, covering him in sticky fluid just as the figure of a teenage girl appeared before him.

“Hello again Mr Stark, it has been – what is that you’re covered in?” Shuri, “do I even want to know?”

“It’s the web fluid from Peter’s suit” Tony said.

Thankfully it was the fast dissolving variant they’d been working. Shuri smirked mischievously.

“Sure it is Mr Stark” she said.

“I’ll have you know I’m a happily married man. I assume you have some actual reason for calling me, besides making allegations that I could totally have you sued for” Tony said.

“I’d like to see you try” Shuri said, “but you are right. I did have a reason.”

“Which is?”

“That data you sent from Vision. I had a look like you asked” Shuri said.

“Please tell me you found something” he said.

It had been bugging him ever since he’d taken the measurements. There was something wrong with Vision. He didn’t care how many times his instruments had told him there was no fault, Tony didn’t believe it. He could see it plain as day. His arm was stiff, and it shouldn’t do that. Shuri’s face did not bode well.

“Don’t give me that look. I don’t like it when you give me that look.”

“I’m sorry Mr Stark, but I could find no fault in the data you gave me. Everything says that Vision should be functioning normally” Shuri said.

“So I’m just going crazy in my old age then?”

Shuri jabbed a finger at him.

“Ha! You admit it, you are old!”

Tony bit back his retort. He would prefer not to spend the rest of his life in a Wakandan prison.

“But in all seriousness, you’re not crazy. I looked at security footage from your compound…”

“Wait a moment, how did you get access to that footage?” Tony asked.

Shuri looked about shiftily.

“My brother” she said lamely.

Tony narrowed his eyes. He’d let that one slide.

“Anyway, I looked at the footage and saw that Vision is indeed having trouble with his arm” Shuri said.

“So we have an android who technology says is fine but biology says isn’t. It’s so poetic I could write a thesis” Tony said.

Shuri nodded.

“I would like to do my own scans if I could. My equipment might tell us something that yours can’t. Would Vision be ok with coming to Wakanda as soon as possible?”

Tony checked his watch.

“I’m flying to Johannesburg in about four hours, I could swing by on my way and drop him off, if he’s fine with it.”

“That will work. Will I see you then as well? I was tinkering with a design for a vibranium arc reactor and wanted your input” Shuri asked.

A vibranium arc reactor! Vibranium produced enough energy on its own, enough to power a whole country. To turn it into a reactor, that could power a continent.

“You bet I will, though maybe on my way back. You know those big wigs in suits, always demanding your time.”

“I let my brother deal with all that” Shuri said.

“Lucky him” Tony said.

“So anyway, as soon as you can send Vision my way, please do” she said.

“Of course. Goodbye for now.”

The hologram flickered and faded away, leaving Tony with the task of convincing an android and his over protective girlfriend to fly to the other side of the world for a mechanical medical examination and not have said girlfriend freak out and crash the plane. He could just bite the bullet and deal with the consequences. He left his lab, ignoring its state of cleanliness. He’d have Peter clear it up, that’s what you made interns do, right? He found Vision in the living room, reading a newspaper.

“Vision?” he said in an almost sickly sweet voice.

Vision looked up and nearly winced. Damn, Tony thought, he’s onto me. Damn him and his annoying habit of learning.

 

Wanda’s progress in her training was coming along nicely, Strange thought. It was a godsend that she was learning to read Sanskrit. Over his time as a Master of the Mystic Arts, he had developed more patience for people than he’d ever had as a surgeon, but it had worn somewhat thin because he couldn’t just hand her a book and tell her to read it. Now he could, sort of. She was curled up on a comfy chair that she’d moved to the training room with her open Sanskrit book perched on her lap while she read a book on the Mystic Arts. It was slow going, Strange knew that it would be, but it gave him time to begin something he’d been meaning to start for ages. The door to the training room opened and in flew the Cloak of Levitation, followed closely by Billy.

“I think sending your clothes to come get me is a new low” Billy said.

“I was busy setting things up here.”

“So put a portal outside my door like you usually do” Billy said.

The Cloak shook its ‘head’ disapprovingly.

“So you like being his butler then” Billy said.

The folds of the Cloak lifted. Was that a shrug?

“Enough” Strange said, and the Cloak came to rest on his shoulders.

Strange felt the familiar and comfortable weight.

“So what are we doing? I thought we weren’t doing any training today” Billy asked.

“We weren’t, but then I remembered something that we need to do” Strange said.

“We?”

“More like you.”

“Thought so.”

Strange ignored that and put on his sling ring. Sparks trailed through the air as the portal opened and Strange stepped through. Billy followed and gasped. Strange didn’t blame him. The world they’d entered was unlike anything on Earth. There were familiar features, but they were twisted and distorted. Rocks that might have been countries floated casually in the air with what might have once been trees, all gnarled and rotten, growing haphazardly from the surface. Strange felt the gravity shifting all around them. Good thing he’d prepared and carved a small pocket of normality for them to be in. What could only be described as the sky was a patchwork of colours, or on occasion, reflections. Billy scanned his eyes over everything.

“What is this place?” he asked.

“It doesn’t really have a name, but I guess you could call it the Torn World” Strange said, “the sorcerers of old, Masters and others, needed a place to practice their spells.

“Why not use the Mirror dimension, or did they not know about it?”

“They did, but some felt like their spells didn’t have the same effects as when they were used in a more, shall we say, proper dimension, so they came here.”

“What spells did they cast?”

“All sorts, most of them very dangerous. There were so many and over so many years that it eventually reduced this whole dimension to what we see around us” Strange said.

“They didn’t clean up after themselves” Billy said.

“No, I don’t think they did. I was able to carve out this little section so that it is somewhat normal” Strange said, “I’d like you to fix the rest.”

Billy whipped his head around to Strange.

“You want me to what?”

“I want you to help fix this dimension” Strange said calmly.

Billy shook his head.

“You’re crazy” he said.

“Am I though? You have unique power over reality, one which has incredibly potential. We’ll only know the full reach of it if we test it, so why not test it here and put it to good use fixing a broken world” Strange said.

Billy didn’t look convinced, but true to form, he took a deep breath and readied himself.

“What do you want me to do?”

“I think we’ll start by stabilising gravity” Strange said.

He’d done his best, but this kind of reality manipulation was hard and wasn’t really his forte, so even though their little pocket was stable, he still felt the occasional swoop of his stomach as a patch of unstable gravity passed over them. But if he was right, then Billy should take to this naturally and have a much easier time. Billy closed his eyes, muttering lightly under his breath. His arms were out in front of him, his palms facing up. Every now and again, his hands would light up with a bright glow before quickly extinguishing again. Each time this happened, his breathing would hitch slightly. He kept up his stream of muttering while Strange watched. Then his hands flipped, and the blue glow that enveloped them didn’t fade away. He stopped muttering. Slowly, he stretched his arms out in front of them before holding them out to his sides. Faint waves of energy pulsed from his body. It was subtle, but Strange could feel with every pulse the gravity stabilising. His stomach swooped less and less. Billy kept this up for only a few minutes before he fell to his knees, panting. The pulses of light stopped but their effects lingered. Billy had done it, at least a little bit. Billy tried standing but his legs shook beneath him. Strange was by his side in an instant, supporting him.

“I’ll be fine in a minute. I just need to rest” he said.

“I know, but all the same I think that’s enough for the day” Strange said.

Billy nodded, still trying to catch his breath. Strange opened the portal back to the Sanctum and helped guide Billy through it. He was correct, Billy had a much easier time stabilising the Torn World than he’d had. It had taken him weeks to even carve out what little he’d done, whereas Billy had stabilised the gravity a little bit in just a few minutes. Admittedly it had taken a lot out of him, but that would improve with practice. They arrived back in the Sanctum, finding it very much as they’d left it. Wanda was still in her chair, though she wasn’t reading her books. Instead, she was on the phone. Her face was knit with worry, so it couldn’t have been good news. Strange thought back to their conversation about Vision and hoped it wasn’t that.

“I’m ok now” Billy said, taking a few shaky but unsupported steps away from Strange.

“I’ll be going back there, won’t I?”

“I think it would be a good long term investment, as well as a good way for you to expand your powers safely” Strange said.

Billy nodded.

“Will it always feel like this?” he asked.

“I imagine it’s like most things. The more you try, the easier it gets.”

Billy nodded again. He was no longer panting but he still seemed a bit unsure on his feet. His exhaustion gave Strange more information, especially about the upper limits of his power. So far, it seemed like the upper limit was only how long Billy could hold a particular spell for, not the scale of the spell in question. Strange tried to push what worry he had about that to the back of his mind. Thankfully, a distraction readily presented itself.

“Strange!”

 

It was an odd experience, reading so slowly and constantly checking between a grammar guide and verb table to understand what was being read. Wanda hadn’t experienced that since she was a young child learning English, but she couldn’t really remember it, but she was sure there were no textbooks involved. Reading the simple book that Wong had found for her was slow going, but she found that the Mystic Arts were incredibly interesting once she’d actually been able to take her time and digest what was being said. The usual goings on in the Sanctum went on around her. Strange opened a portal to somewhere and he and Billy left through it. This wasn’t too surprising. Billy was also Doctor Strange’s student, so of course there were things he needed to be taught. They both had taken time out to bring her somewhat up to speed, and Wanda felt slightly guilty for the imposition. Still, she would make it up to them. It wasn’t long after the pair of them left that Wanda’s phone rang. This was a surprise as there were very few people who weren’t on vibrate only. One was Tony, because he’d hacked her phone and permanently set a ridiculously embarrassing ringtone for himself. Steve was another, as was Natasha. She couldn’t think why any of them would be calling her, so that only left. Vision! She hurried to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Wanda, it’s me” Vision said on the other end.

“Is everything alright? Has Tony heard back from Shuri?” she asked.

There could be many reasons why Vision would be calling her, but her worries were so near the surface these days, that was where her mind went immediately.

“Yes he has” Vision said.

“And?”

“About that. Wanda, you’re not going to like, I told Mr Stark that you should be consulted but he wouldn’t listen. I’m currently in Wakanda, I believe on my way to the Royal Palace” he said.

“What? Why are you in Wakanda?” she said, standing up suddenly.

She needed to get back to the compound. She could ask to borrow a Quinjet, be there as quickly as she could. She’d need to arrange with the Wakandan border service for passage, but she could figure that out on the way. But another question presented itself to her.

“Why am I only hearing about this now?”

“Mr Stark insisted I come with him immediately. He spent the whole journey to Africa explaining Shuri’s findings in excruciating detail. I feel like her was stalling for time. The next thing I knew we’d landed in Kenya and I was being bustled from his jet onto a Wakandan ship. I only just got the chance to call you now.”

Tony Stark! Her blood boiled. He could be incredibly pushy when he wanted something, but she didn’t think he would be literally pushy.

“Mr Stark said he has arranged for a Quinjet to be readied at the compound to take you to Wakanda when you are ready” Vision said.

Clever boy Stark, piss me off then ship me to a different continent. She was definitely angry, but she calmed herself and sat back down.

“Ok, well that aside, what did Shuri find? Does she know what’s wrong?” Wanda asked.

“I’m afraid that is the worst news. She couldn’t find anything wrong so asked if I could come to Wakanda so she could examine me herself” Vision said.

“She probably didn’t ask for him to abduct you.”

“No I imagine she didn’t.”

Wanda sighed. Worry was still eating at her, but they were assuaged somewhat. If there was anywhere in the world that could find what was wrong, it was Wakanda, and if there was anywhere that could helo if things went bad, it was Wakanda.

“How are you feeling? Any different?” she asked.

“I’m afraid not, it’s still much the same. Hopefully Princess Shuri will be able to shed some light with her analysis” Vision said.

“Ok. Well I won’t stick around here much longer today so it shouldn’t be too long before I head out. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way” Wanda sad.

A portal opened in the training room. Strange returned from wherever he’d went, supporting Billy who looked exhausted. It must have been some training session.

“Of course. I should probably hang up now. We are arriving at the palace” Vision said.

“Ok, well I’ll…” Wanda said, but she was cut off.

“Strange!”

The door to the training room slammed open and Wong came hurrying in. He was out of breath as though he had been running for a while.

“Vision, I’m going to have to go.”

“Is everything alright?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I’ll see you soon” she said as she hung up.

“Wong, what’s wrong?” Strange asked.

“It’s … It’s Mordo” he said between pants.

He was waving a piece of parchment through the air. Strange took it and scanned it. From the glimpse she got, it looked to Wanda like a list of names.

“He was at Kamar-Taj” Wong said, “ages ago, around the time he took Pangborn’s magic” he said when Strange looked worried.

“It’s just a list of names Wong, what’s got you so worried?” Billy asked, having peeked at the parchment.

“That parchment came from the Keeper of the Records. Turns out that she keeps track of all those who train at Kamar-Taj, for any length of time” Wong said, “she didn’t know that Mordo had left so didn’t think twice about showing that list to him.”

“If Mordo’s seen this, then he knows everyone who has magic on Earth” Strange said.

“Exactly.”

“Most of them are Masters at the other Sanctums or at Kamar-Taj” Strange said, thinking aloud, “Mordo would be a fool to go after any of them. So he’ll probably go after the others.”

His head suddenly shot up.

“Too many sorcerers” he muttered to himself.

“What does that mean?” Wanda asked.

This whole business with Mordo was getting serious, she knew that much, though it frustrated her that no one was telling her anything about who Mordo was. She’d asked, but every single time, they always deflected and changed the subject. It was obviously a sore point for them, especially Doctor Strange.

“Pangborn said that Mordo accused him of stealing power. What if Mordo is trying to remove the powers of the Mystic Arts from the world, one person at a time?”

“Or maybe just the people he feels have used it selfishly?” Billy said.

“Bit of a warped view of selfishness” Wanda commented.

“But very much how Mordo would be thinking after what happened with the Ancient One. Wong, surely just this list alone wasn’t enough to have you running all the way from Kamar-Taj?” Strange asked.

“Indeed not” Wong said, directing Strange’s attention back to the parchment, “we believe we might know Mordo’s next target.”

Strange read the name, and then read it again, seeming to be considering his actions. In an instant, the parchment vanished and Strange was putting on the sling ring.

“You two, with me” Strange said, gesturing to Wanda and Billy as he drew the portal into the air.

“But Strange, I have…” Wanda started, but the intense look Strange shot her was enough to silence her.

This was important. She’d tell Vision about it later. Hopefully he’d understand. The portal was open and Strange near ran through, Wanda and Billy hot on his heels. She needn’t have worried about Vision. As she passed through the portal, she was hit with a wave of heat and bright light. She squinted, hoping for her eyes to adjust quicker. The sounds of metal moving and people getting into formation filled her ears. Words in a language she didn’t understand were spoken. Finally her eyes adjusted and she was face to face with a line of spears. Strange was facing down the Dora Milaje of Wakanda without any hint of fear. Behind them, she saw a surprised looking T’Challa and an even more surprised Vision.

“Stand down, these are friends” T’Challa said, stepping between his guards, “though it would have been more polite for them to have told us they were coming.”

The Dora Milaje, as one, relaxed somewhat, their spears stood beside them. One of them, whose armour was accented with gold rather than silver, Wanda recognised as Okoye. She was surveying the three of them with a scrutinising gaze, almost daring them to make a move.

“I’m sorry to burst in on you King T’Challa” Strange said, only now seeing Vision, “especially since you appear to be entertaining guests, but it’s important.”

“I’d almost be surprised if it wasn’t” T’Challa said, coolly appraising Billy and Wanda as he shook Strange’s hand, giving them both a warm nod.

He gestured for them to follow him into the palace. Vision joined them too, shooting Wanda a confused glance. She shrugged. Honestly, she didn’t know why she was here, but at least she was with Vision now.

“About two years ago, did Wakanda have a spy in Nepal, specifically Kathmandu?” Strange asked.

T’Challa stopped, bringing everyone else to stop too. Wanda saw Okoye tighten her grip on her spear.

“What do you know of our spies?” T’Challa asked.

His tone was neutral but the question was clearly a challenge.

“Look, I don’t care about your politics. I only ask because I think she might in danger” Strange said.

There was a tense silence. T’Challa stared at Strange, processing the answer.

“Ayo” T’Challa said and one of the Dora Milaje stepped forward, “take Vision to my sister’s lab. I believe she has everything set up already.”

Ayo bowed to her king before leading Vision away. T’Challa turned to fully face Strange. His face was concerned but calculating, not entirely trusting Strange’s words but not outright disbelieving them either.

“Tell me everything about this possible threat, and I will help you in any way I can.”

 

T’Challa was an impressive man, or at least that was what Billy thought. Despite his calmness and the warmth of his character, he projected the regality of a king so well it was quite intimidating to be around. They were in the throne room, a wide open space with a large square of what looked like actual earth in the middle. This must be where they hold council, Billy thought. T’Challa was sat in an impressive chair that could only be the throne, while he and Strange stood before him, Wanda having gone to be with Vision. Around the room, the Dora Milaje stood ready, while the general, Okoye, stood to the right of T’Challa. He had only met her a few times, and every single time he felt like a tiny child beneath her hard gaze. T’Challa was looking between them, processing what he had been told.

“This Mordo” he said carefully, “why would he be doing this?”

“I’m afraid I can’t be entirely certain” Strange said.

“Yet you believe he will be coming here” T’Challa said.

Again, his voice was neutral but the challenge in it was obvious. Strange didn’t seem fazed by it.

“Yes I do” he said.

“Why?”

“Because of this” Strange said, pulling the parchment from thin air.

Okoye twitched her spear at the magic, but T’Challa waved her down as Strange handed the parchment across. A few of the names on it were glowing. T’Challa studied it briefly before Strange spoke again.

“That is a record of all who trained at Kamar-Taj. The glowing names are those that didn’t stay on to become Masters, they’re those who learned some magic for whatever reason but then left” Strange said.

“I see many names on this list. What makes you believe that Mordo will be coming after her?” T’Challa asked.

“Because he’s already attacked the people above her. He attacked Jonathan Pangborn shortly after he left Kamar-Taj, and then about a week ago he attacked a woman named Shelly Macey.”

Wait, a week ago, but that was the creepy tenement block. There had been a woman in the apartment where everything had happened.

“Who’s she?” Billy asked.

“Shelly Macey was on track to become a world class MMA fighter, but she fell down the path of drug abuse. She found Kamar-Taj in her attempt to get clean. According to the records, she was a gifted student but ended up becoming addicted to the knowledge and constantly craved more of it, in less than ideal ways so she was ejected by the Masters” Strange explained.

“When did you find this out?” Billy asked.

“I wanted to know why Mordo was there, so I looked at who owned the apartment. When I saw her name on the list I put two and two together.”

Yeah, but how’d you know the other stuff?”

Strange took the parchment back and pressed down on Shelly Macey’s name. All the writing vanished to be replaced with notes and information about Shelly Macey, like it was a page on a website. Cool, Billy thought.

“So Ms Macey and Mr Pangborn have been attacked already, which would logically make her the next on the list” T’Challa said as a way of clarifying.

Strange nodded. T’Challa considered for a few moments before speaking to one of his guards. He was speaking in Wakandan so Billy had no idea what was being said. Two of the Dora Milaje bowed to T’Challa before leaving the throne room.

“Shortly after I became king, she asked if she could be relieved of her obligations as spy. Given what happened to her on assignment, I was hard pressed to refuse her. She now works to monitor communications with Wakandan people oversees” T’Challa said.

“Thank you for this” Strange said.

“No, thank you for alerting us. In Wakanda, we are safe from many threats, but from everything I have seen of your magic, I do not believe we are safe from that” T’Challa said.

A short while later, the Dora Milaje returned, bringing with them a rather confused looking woman. Like Billy had seen from other Wakandans, she was wearing light and soft clothes, perfect for the hot weather outside. There was some kind of symbol that Billy couldn’t read pinned to her chest. She took one look at Strange and her confusion turned to worry.

“My king, what is going on?” she asked.

“Nothing to worry about Bahati, Doctor Strange is here to help up” T’Challa said.

“You learned the ways of the Mystic Arts, right?” Strange asked.

“At Kamar-Taj, yes” Bahati said.

“Then we think you’re in danger.”

He explained to her what they knew so far. Her worry turned to confusion again, then to shock and back to worry.

“Until your safety can be guaranteed at your home, I would like you to stay here at the palace, so we can keep assessing the situation” T’Challa said.

Bahati nodded, accepting her kings request without comment. T’Challa looked slightly concerned at her silence.

“Are you alright Bahati?” he asked her.

“Yes my king, it’s just. I never imagined Mordo, he seemed so nice, so wise, why would he do this?” she said.

“That’s what we all want to know” Strange said.

“I don’t remember you” she said, pointing to Strange and then to Billy, “or you.”

“Doctor Strange and Billy are friends of mine” T’Challa said.

Bahati seemed to accept this, nodding again. T’Challa turned once more to Strange.

“I believe we have more things to discuss. Anneka, please take Bahati to her guest quarters, make sure she stays safe” he said.

Another of the Dora Milaje stepped forward and led Bahati away.

“Go with them as well Billy, keep her company” Strange said.

Billy nodded. Keeper her safe was unspoken between them. He quickly hurried away from Strange and T’Challa and followed Bahati and Anneka. Anneka spared a glance his way as he approached and he was sure he saw her grip tighten on her spear. Wow, he thought, these guards do not mess around. Bahati shot him a smile as he fell in stride with her. The halls of the Royal Palace were ornately decorated. Billy recognised some of the stylings, some of the few that had made their way out of Wakanda, but it was mostly new to him. Lots of high ceilings and he was sure there was a humming coming from the walls. He wished he had five more pairs of eyes so he didn’t miss a single thing. They reached Bahati’s room, with Anneka standing imperiously but the door. Seriously, were all these guards so intimidating.

“You didn’t have to come with me” Bahati said.

“Do you not think you’d go a bit crazy on your own? I mean, we basically just dropped in and told you there was a crazy person after you” Billy said.

Bahati mulled it over for a bit. Billy took this opportunity to look out of the window. He could see the capital of Wakanda stretching out before him, and it looked amazing.

You look like one of the Masters, or at least what a child might think they look like” Bahati said.

Billy glanced down. He was still in his combat gear from before, having not changed out of it from training. He flicked his hand. Tiny blue bubbles blossomed all over his body before bursting, leaving him in more comfortable casual wear. Bahati seemed intrigued by his use of magic, though looked apologetic almost immediately after.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. There was nothing wrong with what you were wearing” she said.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I’d probably boil in it before too long” Billy reassured her.

“You’ve never been to Africa before?” she asked.

“No. Have you ever been to New York?”

“I’ve been to many places” Bahati said, “though surprisingly America was never one of them. I think I would like to one day.”

Billy turned again to look out of the window. He had a job to do here, but he couldn’t help feel like a kid in a toy store. He just wanted to see it all. He’d heard so many stories about Wakanda, he wanted to know how many were true. Bahati seemed to read his mind.

“Would you like to go and see the city?” she asked.

Billy whipped around. Bahati had a mischievous grin on her face.

“I’m afraid I cannot allow this” Anneka said, “my job is to keep you safe.”

“Then by all means, come with us” Bahati said.

Anneka’s face contorted like she wanted to argue, but Bahati walked straight past her. Billy, suddenly feeling incredibly guilty, hurried after her.

“I don’t think we should do this” he said.

“You’ve had training from the Masters, yes?” Bahati asked.

“Yes but…”

“And I’m not too shabby in a fight myself. We’ll be fine” Bahati said before she took him by the hand and led him quickly through the halls of the Palace, eventually finding the way out.

Anneka ran to catch up with them, looking she could easily murder them both right there. Billy tried to give her an apologetic look but he could barely contain his excitement. Before long, they reached the main streets of the city. This was Wakanda! People were walking down the streets, idly chatting as vehicles drove on the roads. They found a marketplace full of people trying to sell their wares. Billy drank in the sights and smells with the biggest grin on his face. Bahati chuckled at his happiness.

“This was always my favourite part of assignments. You reach a new place and everything’s so different, it’s incredible” she said.

“Everything’s so … normal!” Billy said.

Bahati frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“The Masters have known about Wakanda for years. I heard so many stories about it that made it sound like a fairy tale, but it’s not! There’s people going about their business, buying groceries, playing in the streets, trying to get through the day and go home to their families. It’s like New York, but in Africa. It’s great! I love it!”

Bahati chuckled again.

“You’re like me. When I was your age, all I wanted to do was go and see the world. Not so I could lord how much better Wakanda is, nothing like that, but just so I could see it. See how normal everyone is” she said with a smile.

“Is that why you wanted to be a spy? So you could go and see the world?” Billy asked.

He was curious. T’Challa had made it seem like something horrible had happened to her, but Bahati acted as though she loved the outside world. Bahati’s smile faltered only slightly.

“Yes, I guess it was” she said.

“Then how come you stopped?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t stepping out of line.

Bahati’s smile faltered properly this time. Billy felt a surge of guilt but before he could splutter his apology, Bahati lifted up the side of her long dress, showing her knees. Billy backed away in disgust. Her knees were horribly scarred with what looked to Billy like a tire tread. She didn’t react to it, only lowered her dress again.

“I was on assignment in Nepal. There was this big drug cartel that took an interest in me, not like that” she said when he shot her a look, “they’d seen the way I acted and thought I could be useful to them. But then they found out I was a spy and panicked. They tried running me over.”

“It looks like they succeeded” Billy said almost involuntarily.

“I couldn’t believe the pain. To this day I have no idea how I survived. All I can really remember is being helped through the doors to a building.”

“Kamar-Taj?”

“Exactly that. The Ancient One helped me regain the use of my legs, helped me heal, taught me the techniques I needed. I offered to repay her kindness by offering her my services for a time, but she told me to leave because I was a spy” Bahati said.

“But she helped you. Why would she do that if she knew you were a spy?” Billy said.

“You tell me, you probably knew her better than me” Bahati said.

“I never met her. I…” Billy said but something made him pause.

The market place was as busy as before, but somehow it seemed quieter. The hairs on the back of his neck stood to attention and he got the distinct feeling that he was being watched. This must be what Peter calls his spider sense, Billy thought. This didn’t feel right. Bahati and Anneka looked at him with concern, though Anneka sensed, probably from him, that something was wrong.

“We need to get back to the palace, now!” Billy said.

Anneka nodded and led the way through the crowd. Billy heard it before he saw it. A crackling, buzzing, electrical kind of sound, subtle amongst the bustle of people, but it rapidly grew in intensity.

“Get down!” he yelled, diving to push Bahati to the ground.

The Staff of the Living Tribunal rushed through where they had been standing. The people panicked, running from the marketplace, clearing the area so Billy could finally see him. Mordo walked calmly through the crowd, his relic held menacingly by his side. Anneka was back on her feet, spear at the ready and pointed at Mordo.

“Get her back to the palace. Keep her safe” Billy said to Anneka, not taking his eyes off Mordo.

“You can’t fight him by yourself” Bahati said.

“I’m sorry but that wasn’t a request” he said, turning to face the pair of them.

Magic crackled from his fingertips, flowing outwards to encompass them both.

“ **Return to the palace!** ”

With one decisive chant, both Bahati and Anneka vanished in a burst of light. He heard the crackling again and just barely created a shield before it was smashed by Mordo’s relic, knocking him to his knees. Mordo still looked calm, but losing his quarry had angered him slightly.

“I have no quarrel with you boy, yet, unless you insist on getting in my way” he said, his voice booming.

“you made me get in the way when you targeted innocent people” Billy shot back.

He was on his feet and ready.

“They’re not innocent. The sorcerers are a disease on this world, perverting power to their own ends, bending and breaking natural law to get what they want!” Mordo said.

“You’d sound a whole lot more believable if you hadn’t paralysed a man already” Billy said.

Mordo lost all pretence of calmness.

“They are symptoms, as are you.”

Mordo lashed out with the staff. The segments came apart, crackling with sinister energy as it whipped towards Billy. He dodged left and launched lightning at Mordo. Mordo was quick, conjuring a shield to take the hit. Again, he whipped his relic and Billy dodged again, barely, but now Mordo charged in. Billy flew up, wreathed in dull blue energy, to avoid him. Mordo was ready for that. Small shields appeared beneath his feet as he vaulted up. His fist caught Billy in the head, sending him falling back to earth with a hard thud. Mordo let himself drop but Billy surprised him. He rolled to the side so Mordo landed on the ground and blasted with energy again. Mordo’s shield was there to take the hit, but only just and he stumbled backwards off balance. That was enough. Billy conjured a whip and snagged his leg, pulling with all his might and Mordo fell. But Mordo wouldn’t go down easily, springing back to his feet and brandishing the staff, whipping it menacingly so Billy was forced to retreat from it. Billy ducked and weaved, rising slightly into the air to give him more manoeuvrability. Mordo was relentless now. Seizing his chance, Billy ducked under a strike and filled his fist with energy, hoping to make the hit harder. It was hard, colliding with Mordo’s shield in a shower of sparks as energy battled energy. The two pushed against each other.

“Enough!” Mordo said.

He wrenched his arms up, blasting Billy’s magic into the sky like a firework. His kick was swift to Billy’s gut, knocking him to the ground.

“I hoped it would not come to this, but you leave me no choice” Mordo said.

He bore down on Billy with arm outstretched, his hand almost like a claw. Billy tried crawling back but he was still winded slightly from the kick. He was done for.

 

“We have no idea when Mordo will come. It might be tomorrow, it might be next week, we really don’t know” Strange said.

They had retired from the throne room to what Strange guessed was T’Challa’s office. They had been discussing how best to improve security so that he and Billy didn’t need to be there all the time. T’Challa nodded.

“It is always best to be prepared. Hopefully these improvements will be helpful” he said.

Okoye had been in something of a rage after finding out that Bahati and Billy had left the palace. Strange had tried to ease her worries, though he didn’t admit to having some of his own. Billy was with her, as was Anneka so it wasn’t as if Bahati wasn’t guarded. But would Billy be a match for Mordo if he did show up? Maybe, maybe not, but Billy wasn’t stupid. Surely he wouldn’t continue a fight he couldn’t win, and especially if it meant putting someone else in danger. If Mordo showed up, he would make sure Bahati was safe, and probably Anneka too because he was that sort of person. A burst of light sent both men to their feet. Out of the corner of his eye, Strange saw T’Challa’s suit crawl over his body, ready for whatever this was. But Strange now recognised it. It was Billy’s magic. When the light faded, Bahati and Anneka appeared before them. Bahati was on the ground as though she’d been pushed, while Anneka was on her feet clearly ready for a fight. Both looked dizzy and lightheaded, which wasn’t unusual for people experiencing Billy’s teleportation for the first time. The head of T’Challa’s suit peeled back, leaving it bare, and he was at Bahati’s side in an instant.

“What’s going on? What happened?” he asked her and Anneka.

“We were in the market. Mordo attacked us” Bahati said.

“And where is Billy now?” Strange asked.

“The boy did something and sent us back here while he stayed to fight that man” Anneka said, quickly regaining her composure.

“Where?” T’Challa insisted.

There was a loud crash and bright light through the window. From out in the city, a stream of energy was fired into the sky, bursting high above the streets.

“I guess that’s where” Strange said grimly.

He and T’Challa exchanged a look. The head of T’Challa’s suit reappeared as Strange drew a portal in the air and they both ran through it. Strange just hoped he wasn’t too late.


	4. Natural Law

Strange had about two seconds to assess the situation on the other side of the portal. Billy was on the ground, Mordo was stood over him. He couldn’t be certain, but whatever Mordo was doing was surely not good. On instinct, he swung out a whip, snaring Mordo’s arm and holding it still. With a strong yank, he pulled Mordo around to face him.

“Mordo!” T’Challa yelled.

Mordo’s face was fixed, anger mixed with a small amount of hatred.

“King T’Challa” Mordo said, his voice polite despite the look on his face.

“You will not hurt my citizens! You will not leave Wakanda!”

“I’m sorry your highness, but I have a mission. I cannot let you stop me” Mordo said.

He turned back to Billy, but T’Challa charged. Mordo must have seen the movement because he conjured a shield to block the vicious kick aimed at him. Despite the block, T’Challa was strong, driving Mordo back and away from Billy. Mordo matched T’Challa blow for block, making up for the lack of vibranium with a magical relic. Strange hurried to Billy’s side.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Billy nodded, taking the offered help to his feet. T’Challa’s relentless assault was getting the best of Mordo. He vaulted to one side and whipped out with the Staff of the Living Tribunal. It caught T’Challa in the shoulder. The impact sparked and T’Challa was blown to his feet. The magic penetrated the vibranium, and he clutched his shoulder in pain.

“No Mordo, stop!” Strange shouted, rushing forward.

Mordo whipped the relic around, straight at Strange. He conjured a shield, blocking the staff and holding it in place. Mordo pulled against it and freed it, knocking Strange off balance. He charged but Strange pivoted, rising just enough to manoeuvre out of Mordo’s path. He created a sword of shimmering dark orange and swung hard. It caught Mordo’s staff and the two sparked against each other.

“Please Mordo, end this” Strange said.

Mordo grimaced and shook his head. A cord of blue energy wrapped around Mordo’s waist. Billy was back on his feet and fighting, pulling the blade-lock apart. Mordo wasn’t too fazed, twisting into the pull and kicking out, catching Billy in the side. Billy stumbled. Strange opened a portal and Billy let himself stumble into it. The portal led directly over them and Billy flew through, building energy between his hands. Mordo dived away as Billy slammed into the ground, unleashing a powerful magical wave. Mordo blocked that with a shield, but Strange flew over Billy, delivering a strong sword stroke to the shield and cracking it. Mordo was forced backwards. There was a guttural cry and T’Challa was back, attacking Mordo from behind. Mordo barely blocked the claws as he threw T’Challa off of him. He twisted around, sending a wave of energy to stall Strange and Billy’s advance. He backed off, keeping the three of them in his line of sight.

“To the king!”

The cry was met with others as a carrier flew over their heads, landing behind Mordo and deposited the Dora Milaje, with Okoye leading the charge. They quickly formed a circle around Mordo, all spears pointing inward.

“Give up! You are outnumbered!” T’Challa said.

Mordo glanced at the assembled warriors with a face full of venom. His gaze rested on Strange. He just wanted to talk to him. Whatever Mordo was now, there must still be something of the man who fought tooth and nail to save the world from Dormammu. Strange wanted to know his friend was still there. Mordo was fast. His hands moved quickly and there was a blinding flash for a second. When it was over, Mordo had vanished. Damn, Strange thought. T’Challa’s mask peeled back again.

“Spread out and find him, alert all security!” he ordered.

“Don’t bother. You won’t find him” Strange said.

“But he will come back” T’Challa said, anger barely concealed in his voice.

“Of course, but you won’t find him before then” Strange said.

T’Challa turned to Okoye.

“We must return to the palace. Security is to be increased, and Bahati is to be kept safe” he said.

Okoye called out to the Dora Milaje in Wakandan and they all trooped back to the carrier. Billy clutched his stomach.

“Are you alright?” Strange asked.

“Took a hard hit, should be alright” Billy said.

Strange opened a portal back to the palace. Okoye eyed it suspiciously but followed her king all the same as he stepped through. They were back in T’Challa’s office, but they weren’t the only ones in the room. Bahati was still there from before, but she was joined by another woman, younger, probably only slightly older than Billy. She was dressed smartly, though with a casual air to it, and her hair was held in a tight bun. Strange recognised her as Shuri, T’Challa’s sister. She hurried over to them as they entered, either unfazed by the portal or otherwise ignoring it.

“What happened?” she asked, “I heard there was some kind of attack.”

T’Challa’s suit melted away as he hugged his sister, wincing slightly.

“We are alright” he said.

“Alright! You are injured brother” Shuri said.

“I’m not surprised. You took a hit from the Staff of the Living Tribunal” Strange said.

Only now did Shuri acknowledge Strange and Billy, regarding them both curiously.

“Wanda said you were here. Did you have something to do with this?” Shuri asked as she gently probed T’Challa’s shoulder.

“Not really” Billy said.

“Did Mordo get away?” Bahati asked.

Strange nodded gravely. This meant he was still after her, and no doubt would keep coming after her until he got what he wanted.

“I admit that this sounds harsh, but it sounds like this Mordo is only interested in her magic. What would be the problem with letting him take it?” Okoye asked.

Billy gasped and shot Okoye a harsh look. The general wasn’t fazed by this, only looking between Strange and Bahati. That would depend, Strange thought, it might not be too bad if the injuries weren’t too severe. But only Bahati would know for sure. He glanced her way. Her face was set, like she was thinking this through.

“It would be extremely painful, I’d rather die” she said.

Okoye nodded, dropping the line of questioning. Shuri looked between all of them. Strange knew her to be an intelligent person, remarkably so, so he was not at all surprised to see the curiosity bloom on her face.

“Wait, why would there be pain? Are you injured?” she asked.

Bahati sighed heavily.

“My legs were run over in Nepal. I would have lost them, or died, had I not been rescued by the people at Kamar-Taj. They taught me magic enough to heal my body” she said.

“And if Mordo takes her magic, her injuries come back, just like Pangborn’s” Billy said gravely.

Shuri smirked slightly, the kind of smile that signals an idea forming.

“If the injuries are the problem, not the magic or whatever being taken, then can’t we just heal the injuries?”

All eyes turned to Strange. This might actually be a good idea. Of course there was no way to test it without actually doing it, but in theory it could work.

“It’s never been done before. There’s no way to be sure but there is a chance” he said.

“Then that settles it. Let’s go to my lab and I’ll see what I can do” Shuri said.

They all followed after her. Bahati was trying to keep a brave face but Strange had a feeling she was more scared than she was letting on. Not so much scared about Mordo, but scared about the pain, something Strange understood. If he hadn’t been trained by the Masters, he’d probably be in her exact position. Shuri’s lab was spacious, built around a spiralling ramp in the centre of the room. Leading away was a small room with an examination table in it. There was another room beyond, and Strange saw Vision lying on a bed, machines and films of light whirring over him. Wanda was sat a short distance away. Despite the seriousness of the situation when they’d arrived in Wakanda, Strange hadn’t had the heart to stop her from staying with him. He knew she would only be distracted otherwise, especially if whatever it was was serious enough for him to be brought to Wakanda. Shuri gestured for Bahati to lie on the examination table. Iron filing like sand streamed from the sides of the table, forming a representation of Bahati’s legs, because of course a Wakandan table couldn’t just be a table. Strange winced slightly. That did look bad, but Shuri didn’t look fazed. She poured over the representation, twisting it around to get a better look.

“Well sister, can you heal her?” T’Challa asked.

The sand representation faded away.

“I believe I can brother, and it shouldn’t take too long” Shuri said, and she headed her brothers follow up question off by saying, “a few hours maybe.”

T’Challa nodded. Shuri shooed them all from the room as an aide arrived. The doors closed and they were left to wait. Billy wandered about the lab, finding a stool to sit on. He held his hand to his stomach and it was bathed in a faint but warm glow. Strange left him to healing, before pondering the events of the day. Mordo had attacked, just as they thought he would, which meant he was going after those who had been trained in magic but then did nothing with it. He was so committed that he was willing to fight not only him and Billy, but also the Black Panther, protector of Wakanda. T’Challa still winced from his shoulder injury. No doubt Shuri would want to take a look. Billy also noticed and directed his healing magic at the king instead of him. This wasn’t the Mystic Arts, but right now, Strange wasn’t going to complain. Billy was in control, which was good. He just needed to stay in control, especially if he ended up on Mordo’s radar. They would all need to be careful. Shuri said hours. And it turned out to take six.

“I would have been done faster but these are old wounds and it was like there was something getting in the way while I tried to work” she said as she helped Bahati walk.

Bahati had stopped using the techniques she’d learned. Strange could almost feel it, there was no longer a flow of dimensional energy. She walked slowly, Shuri helping her along. She certainly wasn’t as strong on her feet as she had been, but it was better than nothing, and Strange was sure she could recover fully in time.

“How does it feel?” Billy asked.

Surprisingly, Bahati smiled.

“Wobbly, but weirdly, it’s like there’s this weight that’s been lifted from my shoulders” she said.

She thanked Shuri profusely, and the princess, possibly not used to such personal gratitude, smiled awkwardly but accepted it nonetheless. Bahati was escorted back to her room while Shuri went over the post-operative recovery.

“It may take a little while for her to get the proper use of her legs back, since she hasn’t had to use them for so long. There shouldn’t be any pain or discomfort but I will monitor her condition anyway” she said.

"And Bahati knows this" T'Challa asked.

Shuri nodded. T’Challa hummed appreciatively and turned to Strange.

“This gives us some flexibility for when Mordo attacks again.”

“Yes it does” Strange said.

A thought occurred to him.

“What kind of training do Wakandan spies go through, in combat I mean?” he asked.

T’Challa’s face set much the same as it did when Strange first asked about spies, but he didn’t question or challenge him.

“They are trained to defend themselves, so yes they can fight if that’s what you were wondering.”

“Why?” Billy asked.

“I think I might have a plan” Strange said.

 

Night had long since fallen in Wakanda, the brilliant sunset replaced by the cool tones of the moon. Bahati hadn’t been awake for the end of the day. Shuri’s operation had lasted a bit longer than she would have liked, but it was successful nonetheless and now Bahati lay in her guest room, trying to get to sleep. It was slow going. Every now and again she’d feel small twinges in her legs. It wasn’t pain per se, more like her body remembering the pain and almost testing to see whether it was still there. She would take these small twinges any day, because they came with a remarkable feeling of lightness. She wasn’t lying earlier when she said a weight had been lifted. It was as if she hadn’t realised quite how much she was relying on the dimensional energy to keep her legs working, and much like anything that a person relies on too much, it starts to weigh down eventually. She heard the call of an owl somewhere in the distance. That was something common to just about everywhere she’d been. There was always an owl in the dark. Another reminder of normality in strange lands. Shuri had told her to sleep, that she would recover quicker and be back on her feet sooner, so Bahati lay still as she could, hoping to keep her mind clear. She had learned these kinds of techniques in her spy training, and similar ones at Kamar-Taj. She could do this.

_Pain. Her whole world was pain. The only noise she heard was the screams she was desperately trying to muffle. Where the car was, where the people driving it were, she had no idea. All she knew was that she had to get away, as far away she could. There were hands grabbing her, people dragging her. This was it. She was done for. But she would never reveal Wakanda’s secrets. Never! They can torture her all they want, this was already enough pain to last a lifetime. What more could they do? It almost made her want to laugh, or was that delirium? Right now, Bahati couldn’t tell. Then the pain was gone. No, wait, it wasn’t gone, not really. It was still there, but it was happening to someone else, or happening to her. It was all too confusing but whatever it was, it was easier to bear by far. She was sat up in a room, or was she lying down? Across from her was a bald woman eyeing her curiously. When she spoke, she exuded wisdom and a tone that bordered on care while never quite crossing the line._

_“Do as I do, Bahati. The pain will go away.”_

_She knows my name! How does she know my name? She saw her legs before, twisted and scarred. It made her want to vomit, but the woman spoke again._

_“I can help you with the pain” she said._

_“I need to get home. They can heal me there. I need- I need…” but what exactly she needed she had no idea._

_The pain was slowly returning to her. The woman didn’t react to her hysterical rambling._

_“Wakanda can wait. You don’t need to go all that way. I can show you how to heal yourself” she said._

_Why did she want to believe this woman? It was all too good to be true, it had to be, the only people who could heal her were in Wakanda. But the pain was back, and it was all she could do to stay focused on the frustratingly calm woman in front of her. She would never make it to Wakanda in this condition, so if this woman was offering her treatment, then she would take it._

_“Ok, I’ll do it.”_

_The woman smiled._

_“Then do as I do” she said._

_The months passed in a blur. There was a whole aspect to the world that she had never considered, even with the frankly magical technology of Wakanda. This had healed her legs. She could walk again and felt no pain. It did nothing for the scarring but Bahati didn’t mind. Her father had always told her that scars were lessons. Better to learn from them than to repeat them. She would not forget these particular lessons. Her own excitement at being in a new place had clouded her judgement, and she’d let herself be talked into meeting with a drug cartel. Never again._

_“You are looking better every day” Mordo said to her, joining her as she walked to the Ancient Ones study. Mordo had become something of a friend to her. Like her, he had dark skin, though his English was not accented with flavours of Africa. It was closer to English. He had mentored her throughout her training, as he had done for many new students. He was firm, fair, a little intimidating at times but with a good heart all the same._

_“Thank you, I cannot thank you and the other Masters enough” she said._

_They arrived at the Ancient Ones study, at the heart of Kamar-Taj. The Ancient One herself was waiting for them, standing alone in the middle of the wide room._

_“Bahati, Master Mordo, good to see you both” she said as they entered._

_Mordo inclined his head to her with a smile, which she returned. Bahati knelt as though this was a training session, like she had done plenty of times before. The Ancient One remained standing, her face completely masking her thoughts._

_“You wanted to see me, Bahati” she said lightly._

_“Yes. I’m afraid I cannot stay here” Bahati said gravely, “though I cannot forget the kindness you have shown me. I have been here for six months, so I offer you a year. A year of my service, in whatever capacity you’ll have me.”_

_She had given it much thought, but this was the only way she could think of. Wakanda was her home, and home was calling, but to just leave would be utterly disrespectful towards everything that Kamar-Taj had done for her. The Ancient One studied her curiously, not giving anything away. After a while, she spoke._

_“No” she said simply._

_“I’m sorry” Bahati said, confused._

_“My answer is no. You will not stay here for any longer than is needed” the Ancient One said._

_“But I don’t understand” Bahati said._

_“Your destiny does not lie within these walls, rather it lies elsewhere. Admittedly it is only a small destiny, but destiny nonetheless” the Ancient One said, “and besides, and Kamar-Taj is no place for a spy.”_

_Her tone was so calm, so without hate or anger. Bahati almost wished she had shown any kind of negative emotion at all, it probably would have made the blow that much easier to deal with. It was like her grasp on her teachings was slipping, the pain was coming back to her in curious twinges. No, not to her, to someone else, someone else’s legs were hurting._

She woke with a start. Calming slightly, she massaged her legs. The pain wasn’t there. It was all just a memory. She sighed in relief and lay back down. Sleep didn’t come back easily, not that she expected it would, but this was something else. It was as though she was waiting for something. A small something, but something nonetheless. Why were the Ancient Ones words coming back to her now? The dark room was suddenly illuminated by bright orange sparks. Bahati jumped out of bed, stumbling slightly as her feet hit the hard ground but she caught herself. The sparks were in a ring, forming a portal like she’d seen all those years ago in Kamar-Taj. Strange wasn’t behind this, which only meant. Mordo stepped through the portal, as calm as he was back at the marketplace. If there was malice in him, he was hiding it well, she thought. Mordo made no move towards her. Instead he approached the door and ran his hand down the middle. It was a delicate motion, like he was inspecting the quality. With a final flourish by the handle, he spoke.

“I remember you being pulled from the street, completely delirious with pain. Look at you now” he said, with the same warm smile she remembered.

“What happened to you Mordo? The man I knew at Kamar-Taj would never do something like this” Bahati said.

Mordo winced slightly.

“Be glad you didn’t stay long. You would have learned what a wretched place it was” he said.

“Wretched? The Masters healed me. They saved me!”

“And _that_ is exactly the point” Mordo said, taking a small step forward, “you were given power there, and what a waste it has been.”

She couldn’t back away as the wall was behind her. Muffled voices were on the other side of the door. If she could just get to it, she could get some help.

“How selfish you have been, hoarding this power” Mordo said.

“At least I haven’t been misusing it” Bahati said, hoping to keep Mordo distracted.

There was a thud at the door. The guards were trying to break in. Mordo must have sealed the door somehow. Just a little bit longer. Mordo shook his head.

“That’s where you’re wrong. The power you have is a misuse. Humanity having this power at all is a misuse” Mordo said, taking another small step forward, “one that I seek to rectify.”

The thuds against the door were much harder now. King T’Challa must have joined the effort to get in. Mordo lunged in her slight distraction. She wasn’t that unprepared and she managed to catch his arm before it hit her. But that was feint. Mordo’s other hand slammed into her abdomen. As it pulled back, a strange film like substance was pulled from her. With it went her strength and a surge of chills ran through her body. It was a similar feeling to a great weight being lifted, but where that feeling was usually freeing, this made her feel small, drained, defeated. She crumpled to the floor. She braced herself, waiting for the pain to come back, but it didn’t. Shuri had done good work. Mordo turned away from her; the strange film he’d pulled from her blew away in a non-existent breeze.

“I want you to know Bahati that I take no pleasure in this. None at all. I would not wish this burden on anyone, and that it why I must follow it, so no one else has to” he said.

Sharp claws wrenched through the door and a hard kick smashed it wide open. T’Challa tried charging into the room, but Mordo was ready. His shield filled the doorway, replacing the broken wood and holding the king and his guard back. Mordo felt this enough, but Bahati felt her strength returning. She got to her feet, unnoticed by Mordo. So far so good. She kicked out, striking the back of his knee. The leg crumpled and Mordo cried out in surprise. Bahati didn’t want to lose her advantage so bore down on him, hoping to break his concentration enough to weaken the shield. Mordo twisted away from her and blasted her backwards. She landed hard against the side of the bed, the wind knocked out her. As she struggled to get her breath again, there were more sparks. Footsteps filled the room. T’Challa crouched beside her, the shield having faded away when Mordo left.

“Are you alright?” a different voice said.

Doctor Strange was stood in the doorway, looking in on them all. T’Challa helped her to her feet. She was a bit shaky, but otherwise fine.

“I think Shuri’s treatment worked” Bahati said.

“But Mordo, did he get you?” Strange asked, more insistently.

Bahati hung her head and nodded.

“Mordo has escaped again” T’Challa said.

He said it like he was stating a fact, and Bahati was sure he held no blame for her, but she couldn’t help but feel ashamed. The plan had been for her to surprise Mordo while he was busy dealing with the guards, but that hadn’t worked. Strange bent low, examining the pieces of wood that had once been the door.

“Mordo sealed the door. He’d already been interrupted once, he wasn’t going to let it happen again” he said.

“So what now?” T’Challa asked.

Strange thought for a moment.

“He’s onto us now. He knows we’re coming after him. He’s going to be careful. This just got a lot harder.”

 

To say Wanda felt some guilt for not being there to help was an understatement. Though as Vision kept pointing out, she hadn’t been told anything. They’d arrived in Wakanda and found Vision. Wanda guessed they interrupted his welcome by T’Challa. Seeing him only made her worries bubble closer to the surface, though they were never particularly deep these days, and she must have given off some kind of sign because Strange had said she could stay with Vision. Was it selfish for her to stay by his side while the others dealt with the situation? Possibly. There had been some kind of fight, she’d seen them come back to Shuri’s lab with a woman she didn’t recognise. They immediately went into some kind of treatment, leaving Shuri’s machines to continue scanning Vision automatically. They must have fought Mordo, she thought. Mordo. That was another thing. It was starting to get under her skin that they were keeping her in the dark. If she had to guess, Strange and Billy must have had some kind of dealing with him before she’d met them, and judging by how Strange reacted when they saw him in that apartment, it probably wasn’t entirely negative. Strange looked almost ashamed whenever the topic was brought up, like he’d done something to Mordo. Maybe he had, Wanda had no idea. Billy didn’t seem as affected as Strange. His reaction was still similar to Strange’s so whatever happened had happened to both of them, but maybe his relationship hadn’t been as close. This was all she could do, speculate. Maybe she just had to bite the bullet and ask.

“After nearly 15 hours of lying on a table, I do believe I’ve had enough” Vision said, snapping her out of her thoughts.

The machines had been scanning him pretty much as soon as he’d arrived, only broken occasionally when Shuri had physically examined him like Tony had. She wore a very similar expression every single time she did this. It was a look of confusion and frustration. She didn’t need to be telepathic to guess what she was thinking. Shuri couldn’t find anything wrong, and she didn’t understand why.

“It shouldn’t be too much longer” Wanda said.

She wanted to hold his hand, let him know with more than words that she was there, but Shuri had told her not to, just as Vision had been told to keep as still as he could. Apparently, these kinds of  in depth scans required minimal interference. The door to the room they were in opened and Shuri walked in. Her kimoyo beads were displaying something in front of her that she was examining as she walked. She was very much like Tony, with a similar remarkable ability to multitask that made it seem like she had multiple pairs of arms and eyes. Without taking her eyes from the display, she hooked a stool with her leg and pulled it over. The machines stopped as she sat down at Visions side, and the display faded as well.

“Well, the good news is that I could find no faults” she said delicately.

“And the bad news?” Wanda asked, though she could guess what the answer would be.

“The bad news, well, the bad news is that I could find no faults” Shuri said sheepishly.

Apparently a recurring trait among geniuses was that they didn’t like not knowing things, or admitting that they didn’t know things. Shuri scratched her head and looked puzzled.

“Do you have any theories?” You certainly scanned just about every joint in my body” Vision asked.

Shuri pressed something on her kimoyo beads. In the air between Wanda and Vision appeared another display, showing the results of Shuri’s scans.

“I wanted to know if there were any differences. Mr Stark and I tried to make your body as close as possible to the original as possible” Shuri said, “do you see here, just above the shoulder in the neck vertebrae?”

The display zoomed in on Vision’s neck. It looked to Wanda like a normal neck, but Vision must have seen something she missed as he nodded.

“What is it?” she asked, not wanting to be out of the loop.

“Vision’s old body had the capacity to evolve and change. It seems that this body has a similar ability, though on a smaller scale and over longer times. I don’t know if this is what’s causing this” Shuri said, gesturing to Vision’s shoulder, “as the process isn’t abnormal, but it might be something to keep an eye on.”

Wanda sighed.

“So you’re saying that you don’t know what’s wrong either” Wanda said.

How could two of the smartest people on the planet not figure this out? Shuri looked disappointed herself.

“I’m sorry. Until a fault is found, there is nothing more I can do here. If anything changes, please, I urge you to talk to Mr Stark immediately and I’ll be there as soon as I can” Shuri said.

Wanda’s frustrations were eased somewhat. Shuri and Tony had both done their best, and Shuri certainly looked like she meant things.

“Don’t worry. You did what you could” Vision said, “please don’t feel too bad.”

“Thank you for your kindness. I’ve healed many people in this lab, but I’ve never felt like their doctor. I guess this is what it feels like to disappoint your patient” Shuri said.

Wanda wanted to comfort her, but the words didn’t come. Apparently, Vision didn’t know what to say either. Silence fell over them for a moment, before Shuri spoke again.

“Anyway, I’m going to cautiously say you can go back home. I think Doctor Strange is still around, or we can arrange a jet” she said.

It wasn’t exactly good news, but a small flutter of happiness bloomed in Wanda’s chest. Shuri had been scanning for a long time, and found nothing. Maybe this was just Vision’s body growing and adapting. Maybe this was his version of growing pains. Vision squeezed her hand. It was a reassuring gesture. Again, she should be the one comforting him, not the other way around. She squeezed back hoping to return the feeling. Vision smiled. They both thanked Shuri profusely and got up to leave, asking for a jet to be arranged. They both could use the time together.

 

Wanda sat in her chair at the Sanctum, reading her books. It wasn’t really her chair, nobody had assigned her that chair, but it was always the one she found herself in when she came to study. It had been a few days since Wakanda. Nothing had changed with Vision so Wanda thought she could return to her studies. The Sanskrit was getting easier to read, and both Strange and Wong were pleased with her progress, though Strange had seemed very distracted when she spoke with him. Billy lay on his back on the floor beside her, reading a book of his own. How that was comfortable Wanda had no idea, though she guessed he’d cast a spell. When she’d arrived, it was to find Strange snapping at him for not using magic properly. Billy had apologised and Strange looked as though he realised he’d been too harsh. He didn’t apologise back, instead he walked off. She was no expert, she was still very much a beginner, but she couldn’t tell how Billy was using magic wrong. Maybe that was he inexperience talking. She flicked to the next page and was immediately confused by a new term she’d never read before. She could barely make out the writing.

“Billy?” she asked.

Billy sat up, turning to face her.

“What does this say?”

She held out the book for him, pointing to the words. Billy scanned it.

“Natural law” he said.

He returned to his own book and she thanked him and continued reading. As she moved further down the page and onto the next, those same two words kept coming up over and over. Natural law. It must have been important to be written about so much, but why hadn’t she come across the term before?

“Whoever wrote this must really like it” she commented light-heartedly.

“I’m not surprised, it is quite important” Billy said.

“But what is it?”

Why couldn’t a book that made so many references to something not explain what the thing was? Billy sat up again, mulling the question over.

“It’s kind of hard to explain. Natural law is like the boundaries of magic. I think it’s in this book” he said, pulling another bound leather tome from thin air.

Strange had yet to teach her that particular trick, and she was quite looking forward to it.

“Here it is. ‘Natural law marks the line that you must not cross. It is not the whims of any one man; it is the fabric of reality that governs them. Make a mistake with simple spells and to fix the damage is trivial. Make a mistake with natural law, step too far over that line, and there may be no going back’. Here” he read aloud, handing the book to her when he finished.

The book was heavy and looked well worn. There were more words here that she didn’t know, but she could get the gist of what it was trying to say.

“So you can’t do anything that will break natural law?” she asked.

She’d rather know the boundaries ahead of time.

“Well, you can, but like it says, there might not be any going back” Billy said.

She turned to the next page. This one explained natural law some more, with a list of things which would violate it.

“These seem really hard” she said, “I mean, how do you even ‘interfere with the flow of time’?”

Billy stiffened as she read that. It was subtle, but she caught it. Her eyes narrowed. Billy knew something about this.

“What?”

“Nothing” Billy said, trying to brush it aside, but Wanda wasn’t going to let this go.

“You know about this. Have you tried changing time!” she asked, letting her thoughts flood from her mouth.

“No” Billy said quickly.

He glanced around, making sure they were alone.

“I haven’t, but I’ve seen it done” he said quietly.

“By who?”

He glanced about again.

“By Doctor Strange.”

Wait, what? Doctor Strange? Why would he want to change time? Billy seemed to anticipate her questions.

“Strange told you what the Sanctums do, right?”

Wanda nodded.

“You know about Dormammu?”

Wanda nodded again.

“A while ago, there was a threat to the Sanctums. A Master called Kaecilius was deceived by Dormammu into thinking the Dark dimension was something good and attacked the Sanctums so he could bring it to here. Strange fought to stop him. It’s actually when he first met.”

“What happened?” Wanda asked.

“We went to defend Hong Kong but it was too late. The Sanctum was destroyed, the Dark dimension was coming through.”

“I’m guessing you stopped it. I mean we aren’t in a ‘dark’ dimension now” Wanda said.

“No we’re not, but Strange had to use the time stone. He turned back the clock to before the Sanctum was destroyed, and trapped Dormammu in an endless loop unless he stopped his attack” Billy said.

“So he broke natural law” Wanda commented.

Billy opened his mouth to speak, but decided against it. Wanda caught it though and pressed it.

“There’s more, isn’t there?”

Billy sighed deeply.

“It wasn’t just Strange and me. Mordo was there as well. It was before he was whatever he is now, but he’d just had his whole worldview shattered. His faith in the Masters was pretty much gone. I guess Strange breaking natural law pushed him further away.”

So that was why Mordo was a saw subject. She’d guessed that they’d known him before, but actually being there at the moment he turned bad must be a particularly difficult blow to take. She hoped to change the conversation, hoping to turn it away from this topic, but something else on the page caught her eye. It was something else on the list of natural law.

“Fundamental change to reality” she read under her breath.

“What was that?” Billy asked.

“It’s something else that’ll break natural law. ‘Reality is a fabric that must remain intact. To change it, to twist it, to bend it to ones will in such a way as to cause huge disruption can upset the balance in ways that can’t always be predicted’” she read.

Billy leaned over, reading it for himself. He frowned when he finished, not taking his eyes from the page.

“Reality” he muttered under his breath.

Wanda didn’t know what he was thinking, and knew better than to try. This must mean something to Billy, and if he wanted to, when he was ready, she would tell her. Billy sat back down, though he was still lost in his thoughts. But he was not the only one deep in the realm of the mind. Doctor Strange was also deep in thought, stood before the Windows of the World. The raging waves, the eerie still of the desert, the gentle sounds of the rainforest, they were normally calming, but now they did little to ease him. The list of names hovered in front of him, the ink of certain names shining. Jonathan Pangborn. Shelly Macy. And now, Bahati. Three people trained in magic, but who either chose or were forced to resume a normal life with their gifts. Three people who had done nothing wrong, otherwise the Masters would have intervened before now. Three people who Mordo had attacked and stolen their magic. Why these people? Strange knew exactly why. He’d pretty much said it when he left them back in Hong Kong. _We broke natural law, just like her. I will walk this path no longer._ Billy had said that Mordo thought of the Masters as a perversion. Bahati had said that the people on this list having magic was a misuse of it. He was going to make sure that nobody misused magic. Strange should have known it at the time, but finding Mordo in Wakanda was their only chance of being ahead of him. He knew they were onto him. He had this list, he knew the names on it. And now that they’d failed to catch him, there was no telling who he’d go for next. Footsteps approached him from behind. He knew them to be Wong. Billy and Wanda were studying, and Billy knew not to disturb him when he was stood here.

“The Masters of Kamar-Taj and the other two Sanctums are on high alert” Wong said.

Strange nodded.

“All the people on this list and no way of knowing who’s next. If only we could protect them all at once” Strange mused.

Wong stood by his side, looking out of the Windows too.

“It is the duty of the Masters to safeguard this reality. By threatening those of us who practise magic, Mordo threatens this reality. If it comes down to it, we’ll do what we have to” Wong said.

“What we should be doing is talking to him” Strange said.

“You really think Mordo wants to talk?”

“We can’t just write him off” Strange said.

“I know but…” Wong trailed off.

Strange looked at him, frowning.

“But what?”

Wong sighed.

“The other Masters don’t want you to get involved in this. They say this is too personal for you” he said.

“You’re damn right it’s personal” Strange said, stalking off.

Wong hurried to follow him.

“Mordo may still have had a chance if I hadn’t broken natural law and practically gift wrapped every justification he needed to want to wipe the Masters out.”

“You did what you had to do to stop Dormammu” Wong said.

“Yeah, and the Ancient One did what she had to do to make sure she could lead the Masters down the correct path. Look how well Mordo took that” Strange said.

They reached the entrance hall and Strange leaned against a railing, looking down on the door to the outside, where people didn’t have worries like this.

“I’m not just going to let this go Wong” he said.

“I know you won’t” Wong said.

“But I don’t know what to do” Strange admitted with a sigh.

“I do.”

Strange gave him a doubtful look.

“You have two students, both of whom have unconventional magic, both of whom could well become targets should Mordo choose. Make them ready for that day Strange” Wong said.

Strange agreed. If the Masters were a threat, then Wanda would certainly be one too. She already had something of a reputation after the mess in Lagos. And if Wanda was a threat, then definitely Billy would be too. No, he would make them ready. That much he was sure of.

 

Between missions and health problems and training with Strange, Wanda had missed the simple things, like date night. This was always amusing as Vision, despite being a lot better than he was with human interaction, still sometimes didn’t quite grasp things. For instance, when he had discovered stargazing, his idea of a date night was to sit on a hill watching the stars through his new telescope. Wanda had enjoyed herself, not because of the stars but more second hand from the excitement that Vision had seemed to radiate. It was quite touching. She suspected that Steve, or God forbid Tony, had told Vision how a date night usually worked, and he hadn’t done anything like that since. It was Visions turn to choose what they were doing, but given everything else he hadn’t had time to think. He’d chosen something simple and easy and so Wanda walked back to their room with bags full of Mexican takeout food. It wouldn’t have been her choice of take out, but she wasn’t too fussed. This was Vision’s favourite. He’d told her a while ago that he prefers strong flavours. She guessed his synthetic tongue could taste it better when it was stronger. She didn’t know, but didn’t mind. She opened the door to their room and chuckled. Vision had set up a table with candles, lowering the light in the room to create quite the ambience for takeout. He smiled when he saw her. She smiled back, even as she reached across to the dimmer switch and she turned the lights up slightly.

“Oh, I thought I’d gotten it right this time” Vision said.

She chuckled again, dropping the bags down on the table.

“The day you get it right will definitely be cause for celebration” she said, wrapping her arms around him.

He returned the hug just as strongly.

“I missed this” she whispered into his chest.

“We should do this more often then” Vision said.

“And how many times have we both said that, only to then not do it?”

“Point taken.”

“We should probably dig in before it gets cold” Wanda said.

“Just a bit longer.”

She smiled, and so they stayed, just for a bit longer, before they parted, sitting across from each other. They sorted through the bags, handing each other items they’d ordered. The food was good. Vision had done his research for good Mexican places, though she suspected Clint might have had a few words in.

“How has training been going?” Vision asked, “Doctor Strange has been keeping you busy.”

“He has. It’s been going well, though this whole thing with Mordo certainly hasn’t helped” she said between mouthfuls.

She’d filled him in on the plan home. Like with most new information, he’d taken it calmly and logically.

“I imagine it hasn’t.”

Conversation continued along this vein, very light, until Vision asked something which made her stumble.

“Do you remember that room we had in Edinburgh?” he asked.

Wanda nodded.

“Why?” she asked.

“During those fifteen hours on the examination table, I couldn’t help thinking back to those moments we had together. As few as they were, I enjoyed them tremendously” he said.

Wanda remembered them. Wherever, whenever, it didn’t matter. They’d meet in small town diners, city motels and once at the top of a major landmark. Precious time spent together that buoyed her up through that time on the run. Edinburgh had been the last. Thanos saw to that.

“It made me think that I would like a place like that for just the two of us” Vision said.

“In Edinburgh?” she asked.

She could see where he was going with this.

“Possibly. It was a nice city” he said.

“Wouldn’t we be a bit far away?”

“We’d be like Clint, or T’Challa” Vision said, his eyes widening when he’d properly understood how she’d responded, “does this mean that?”

Truth be told, she’d been considering it as well. The Avengers compound was nice, very fancy, but it wasn’t really private. Sure, very few of the Avengers lived here permanently. It was only them and Bruce, but the others were there somewhat regularly. A place of their own would be nice.

“Then Wanda, would strawberry be like an engine on Saturn?” Vision asked.

“What?”

“I spoke that formulations for arranging decisions maker” Vision said.

“Vision” she said, standing up.

Worry flooded through her. What was going on? This wasn’t funny! Please tell me this is some kind of joke, she thought. Vision tried getting to his feet.

“Wanda, I consider a break out of activity head” he said.

His arms trembled as he braced against the table. He couldn’t support the weight and he fell hard to the ground, or he would have done had Wanda not caught him, her energy lowering him to the ground. He was clutching his left leg, which was twitching sporadically.

“Limb, limb” he said.

She was at his side. Instinct told her to check for injuries but this went far beyond injuries. So she did what she had been told.

“FRIDAY, get me Tony now!”

The AI was always listening and did as she was asked. Wanda crouched beside Vision as he babbled incoherently. Panic was rising and Wanda shouted.

“Please, I need some help!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, if you have any feedback I would love to hear it.
> 
> What did you think of this chapter? What do you think of the work as a whole? Please let me know.


	5. Memory of Loss

It was so obvious, even a blind man could see it. Vision lay on the table, a combination of Tony’s and Shuri’s machines whizzing and whirring over him. The tension in the room was palpable, neither Tony nor Shuri spoke, other than to offer suggestions to one another. Tony had been close to Wanda and Vision’s room when he heard her cry for help. Of course he’d dropped everything to see what was going on, only to be greeted by the sight of his friend on the floor, babbling nonsense with jerking limbs. Wanda had no idea what to do as she tried comforting her partner, but Tony let instinct take over. He’d scooped Vision up and hurried him straight to his lab, instructing FRIDAY to tell Shuri what had happened. A few hours later the princess had arrived, bringing a small army of machines that might help. Ideally they would take Vision to Wakanda, but couldn’t as they didn’t know how safe he was travel. The three of them were alone in the lab. It had been a miracle they’d managed to get Wanda to part with Vision at all, something which wouldn’t have happened had Steve not intervened. Tony thought that Steve saw a wounded soldier who needed treatment and used his Captain America voice which, despite Tony’s childhood resentment towards the man, and despite any other problems the two might have, still projected authority. Shuri was watching the machines go like a hawk, monitoring each byte of data as it came in. Tony was sat at a bench a few steps away. He was equally as immersed, though in Vision’s base programming instead. He’d had this idea shortly after bringing Vision to the lab. DUM-E, the loyal yet dim witted science fair project of 14 year old Tony Stark, had gone completely berserk. Not, as Tony originally thought, in an attempt to assist, but because of interference in its programming. Investigating, Tony found, to his surprise, Vision, or at least part of him. It was as though Vision’s mind or consciousness or whatever you wanted to call it was hopping from machine to machine. Why exactly, Tony had no idea, but it meant a tense half hour of double and triple securing anything even remotely hackable just in case Vision decided to make another hop. Now Vision’s programming was laid out in front of him, in all its glory. If he was completely honest, it was one of the things he was most proud of. Vision was a complex overlay of many different systems: JARVIS, Ultron, a little of bit of Tony and Bruce, the mind stone. All of that needed to be recreated when they brought him back. Most were somewhat, ok it would be a lie to call them simple, but it was doable. The mind stone on the other hand, now that was the problem. From the hardware perspective, that was all sorted. They would implement Shuri’s idea for collectively operating synthetic synapses. But the mind stone was more than that. In the language of computers, it was an operating system, but in reality it was more of a, well, a mind, a mind capable of learning, of adapting not only itself but the body it inhabited. Any attempt at recreating Vision had to be capable of that. Tony and Shuri had sat and worked, endlessly, for what felt like weeks. They had help from Bruce, a little from Peter, any smart person they could think of. They even had a few pointers that one time from a talking raccoon. Yes, Tony knew he had a name, but honestly he was still trying to get over ‘talking raccoon’. Eventually, finally, they succeeded, and this new Vision was born. He was just like the original, so Tony and Shuri thought their work was done. Apparently, they had made some kind of mistake.

“What do you have?” Tony asked, not looking up from his screens.

Shuri answered, though she also didn’t look up.

“I’m detecting irregularities. Here” she said, flicking some data so it appeared on his screen, “the signals from Vision’s brain are not being accepted by his limbs. It’s like there is some kind of disconnect.”

“I think I’ve found it” Tony said.

He heard Shuri scoot over on her chair.

“It’s almost like a sick joke. How many geniuses trying to fix a computer does it take to check the computers software? You see it?”

Shuri pointed to a mass of programming.

“What’s happening there?” she asked.

“It’s what it’s not doing. Vision is a remarkable machine, truly he is, but he was originally housing the mind stone” Tony said.

“And our attempt at recreating it technologically hasn’t worked?”

“I think it does work, assuming Vision doesn’t change, but he does. He’s constantly adapting both body and mind, and between the mass of connections in the ‘mind’ stone, his neural hardware and the vibranium body, somewhere there’s a rejection” Tony said.

They’d identified the problem, that’s always a good start. The best start, in fact. But now they were faced with a new problem. Vision’s body was already just about the most advanced technology there was on the planet. Could they improve on that? Tony shook his head of that doubt. Of course they could, they had to.

“How could we have missed this?” Shuri asked.

She, like him, must have been feeling awful. They both hadn’t been able to find what was wrong. Tony reached out a tentative hand and gave her shoulder a squeeze.

“Let’s not beat ourselves up. We’ve got something much harder to do” Tony said.

“And what would that be?” Shuri asked, still lost in her thoughts.

“We’ve got to break some bad news to Wanda, because you and I both know how this could end.”

Shuri nodded gravely. Best to get this over with, Tony thought.

“FRIDAY?”

“She’s in her room Boss. Captain Rogers is with her. I’ve asked her to come down” the AI said.

Good old FRIDAY, Tony thought, reliable as always. In what seemed like an instant, Wanda was back in the lab with Steve hot on her heels. She looked like she’d been crying, but her eyes were dry now, filled instead with an intensity that should have had him balking. She wasn’t angry, was she? Neither Shuri nor Tony knew how to start, so he decided to bite the bullet and just open his mouth and let his brain fill in the rest.

“Well, we’ve got some good news and bad news” he said in a futile attempt at a light tone.

“Get to the point Stark” Wanda snapped, not taking kindly to the levity.

“Right, sorry. We’ve found the problem. Like what seems to happen all too often, it’s a problem of our own making” Tony said, taking a deep breath, “the problem isn’t so much his body, it’s more in his mind, in his base programming.”

“In order to bring him back, we needed a hardware and software approximation of the mind stone. Between Mr Stark and myself, we thought we could create a system that could handle everything we needed it to do, but we were wrong” Shuri jumped in.

“What do you mean?” Wanda asked.

“Vision is like a human in so many ways, so like a human would, he’s constantly learning, constantly adapting. It would seem like we didn’t anticipate just how much of both he would be doing” Tony replied,

“But JARVIS, FRIDAY, they learn as well. How come this hasn’t happened before?” Steve asked.

“Sure they learn, but not on the scales that Vision does. Video, audio, that stuff’s easy to process, but touch, taste, pressure, pain, these things are so much more difficult” Tony said.

“There’s been so much adaptation of his systems as he incorporates new information that our mind stone approximation hasn’t been able to keep up with it, and so it’s rejecting the changes, causing a cascading degradation throughout his system” Shuri said.

“Joint stiffness, sporadic and jerking limb movement and inability to articulate sentences, all because his mind and body are rejecting one another” Tony said.

Wanda stared them down, daring them to go on. When they didn’t, she broke. Not in tears or weeping, but her façade of anger completely collapsed. Steve, ever the gentleman, slipped a chair beneath her as she sank down. In a roundabout kind of way, Tony knew exactly how she felt. Because this wasn’t just Vision, not to him, not now. This was Jarvis, his butler who was the only person who ever seemed to care about him unconditionally. Jarvis whose death had devastated him to the point that when he made his own digital assistant, there was only ever one choice of who it would be. It had been hard enough losing him the first time in real life, to lose him again to Ultron was only softened because Vision came out of it. Now he could potentially lose him again, and he wasn’t going to go through that. He wasn’t. This wasn’t just Vision anymore, this was Edwin Jarvis he was trying to save.

“What’s going to happen to him?” Wanda asked, barely keeping her voice level.

“We are going to try and stabilise the degradation and work on solutions to the other problems” Shuri said.

“And possibly v shall evoke?” Vision said.

“I’m sorry?” Tony said.

“He wants to know what’ll happen if you can’t” Wanda said.

There was the slightest of red glows in her eyes that wasn’t due to tears forming. Tony took a deep breath. Good lord these words were hard to say.

“If we can’t stabilise things, then he’ll continue to degrade. Computers are fundamentally simple things. You give them instructions and they follow them exactly to the letter. If things keep progressing, if the connections keep degrading, then eventually, he’ll become like that.”

“I’m afraid that is only the best of the worst outcomes” Shuri said.

“What do you mean?” Steve asked.

“It assumes that nothing else goes wrong. The continued rejections may cause corruption within his systems. These could lead to many possible outcomes, like massive deletions of protocols, of memories, of experiences, but one thing would be certain. It would lead to total, irreversible shutdown” Shuri said.

Wanda shook.

“So he’ll either be a vegetable or die” she said, choking back tears.

“Wanda listen to me” Tony said, gripping her shoulders reassuringly, “we are not going to let that happen. We’ll work around the clock, we’ll do everything in our power. Vision will not die on our watch.”

Her eyes glowed red again. If he thought about it, he was sure he could feel a faint pressure, almost like a tickle, right at the back of his mind. Normally, he’d hate Wanda reading his mind, it was an invasion of privacy after all, but he’d let it slide this one time. She obviously needed to be sure, to know for certain that he was telling the truth. Honestly, he didn’t even know if she was doing it on purpose, people are wont to do many things when loved ones are in danger. After a little while, she nodded and the first tear fell. He wasn’t much for hugging people, but this situation definitely called for it, and if the tightness of Wanda’s reciprocation was anything to go by, she really needed it. They broke apart.

“I know you’ll want to stay, but I’m afraid you can’t. We can’t afford any distractions or anything getting in the way” Tony said delicately.

Steve, ever the captain, nodded affirmatively before leading Wanda away. As they passed the table Vision was laying on, she reached out and gripped his hand. It was only brief, but it was meaningful. After she left, Vision was quiet, no longer babbling, and did whatever Tony or Shuri asked him to do, as much as he could. There was a look of steely determination on his face. That was good, Tony thought, he was still with them, enough at least. Keeping fighting buddy, for your sake, and hers.

 

In the years since, this site had become something of a morbid wonder. The great expanse, like a crater in the heart of Sokovia that had once contained a city. Sokovia was not a large country, nor was it a particularly stable one. It definitely did not need one of its few large urban centres being ripped from the earth. But it had. Wanda had been there when it happened. It was the first time she thought she could make some kind of positive difference. Before that, she was all rage and pain, all of it directed at Tony Stark. When Strucker had come looking for test subjects, she and Pietro had signed up willingly. All the better to get to the one they called Iron Man. Then Ultron happened, which was partly her fault. She’d given Tony the push to make that psychotic machine, the one that had destroyed her home. Now she was back where it all began, standing at the edge of the crater. Nobody had had the heart to try and resettle, or really do anything with it. It stood as a stark reminder. Of course nature had reclaimed it, as nature always did. You could almost imagine that it was some kind of circular valley, if only the trees weren’t so patchy. She turned away, walking back into the remains of the city. There was a large stone plinth erected near the edge. Carved into it were lots of names. There were similar memorials dotted about the edge of the crater. Try as they might, they hadn’t been able to save everyone in the Ultron attack. She knew that all too well. What was left of the city was had become something of a resettlement camp. The people here were scared and waiting for aid. The Sokovian government had barely been able to do anything. How do you react to one of you major cities being blown up by a group of superheroes to save the world from a killer robot? Most people hadn’t been rehoused, either elsewhere in Sokovia or in the neighbouring countries that had accepted refugees. She tried to keep a low profile, not that people would recognise her, but she couldn’t be sure. Wanda walked through the city. It was by pure chance that the graveyard was in this part of the city, and thus had been safe.

“I’m sorry it’s been a while” she said when she arrived.

Before her stood the grave of her parents. It had been her decision, but she could think of nowhere else for her brother to be laid to rest. Beneath her feet, the body of Pietro Maximoff lay.

“I wish I could have come sooner, but I hope you’ll understand.”

Summer was peaking around the corner, warming the breeze in a very pleasant way as it washed over her. The ground beneath her was firm, holding its charges tightly. Wanda found herself with no idea what to say.

“I think you’d be proud of me, all of you” she said, “I was strong, mostly. I found friends. I didn’t let myself be stuck in, in, hate forever. I did good.”

“We always said that after our mission was over we’d find our own lives. I’m sorry you never go that chance.”

She looked away, blinking back tears. She knew he wasn’t, but Wanda couldn’t but feel her brother was judging her.

“I know I’m not being strong now. I know I should. Vision needs me to be, but I just, I don’t think I know how.”

“She knelt down and placed her hand on the gravestone. The stone was cool, taking the warmth from her fingers.

“When mom and dad died, I had you. When you died, I had Vision. If Vision dies, I don’t know what I’ll have left.”

A hot teat fell to her lap and she didn’t bother wiping it away.

“I just wish you were here” she said.

She felt movement behind her. Not that she minded. This country had seen so much loss that every graveyard had visitors. Respect was always due, even for mortal enemies, because everyone had lost someone. Whoever it was stopped right behind her. They weren’t threatening her at all. Something about them seemed familiar to her, so Wanda turned to look. It was Billy. He was wearing tastefully plain clothes and made no move to disturb her. It was the same just about everywhere. Respect was due, everyone had lost someone.

“It’s a shame you didn’t get to meet him. I think you’d get along well” Wanda said.

“You think so?” Billy asked.

“I hope so” Wanda said, turning back to the gravestone.

What would her brother think of her friends? He’d hated Tony Stark for just as long as she had, hated the Avengers because HYDRA told them to, but he had also made the decision to help them when they needed helping. He’d fought in Sokovia with the Avengers, when he of all people could have gotten as far away as possible if he wanted. She thought he wouldn’t mind her company, even if it did mean Tony Stark. And the magic side, Doctor Strange, Wong, Billy? Hopefully he’d like them too. She heard a faint muttering behind her and Billy stepped forward, holding a small wreath of flowers in his hand.

“I don’t know if Pietro was a flowers kind of guy” Billy said.

“I’m sure he would appreciate it anyway” Wanda said, accepting the wreath and placing it tenderly on the grave.

There had been no money for any kind of memorial for her parents. No flowers. When Pietro died, the world was too busy mourning the civilian deaths to notice. The Avengers were perfectly respectful, but they were too busy licking their own wounds to spare much thought at the time to someone who had so recently been their enemy. Those words of comfort came later. In every case, the world kept turning, onward and always. Not even Thanos tried to stop that. She stood, paying her final respects to her loved ones, and left the graveyard, Billy following in step with her. When exactly he had come to Sokovia, she couldn’t be sure. She didn’t mind though. Now that he was here, she was more than glad of the company. Billy seemed very interested in the remaining city, determinedly giving her whatever space she needed. Very much like Billy, she thought, always there for a friend, even if he wasn’t asked.

“You don’t have to act like I’m about to break you know” she said, hoping to sound more confident than she felt.

“I just didn’t want you to be alone, but you don’t have to talk” Billy said.

“It’s fine, please talk to me.”

“About what?”

“Anything” she said.

They were surrounded by painful subject matter for her, but at that moment, she didn’t really care. The man she loved was possibly dying, what else could feel worse?

“This place looked like it was really nice?” Billy commented.

“It was” she said.

It wasn’t like any of the other cities she’d seen in the world, and it certainly wasn’t the next big tourist location, but it had a quaint homey feel to it. Probably because this had been her home, she thought.

“Ultron really did a number on this place” he said, “what was it like before that?”

Billy was just making conversation like she’d asked him to, but she found herself unable to answer him. Not because she didn’t want to, but because there was something she really wanted to ask him.

“Billy?”

“Yes?”

“What was it like when you lost Jamie?”

It was an incredibly blunt question, she knew that, but she needed to know. Billy had lost the only person to care about him at a young age, and he didn’t have anyone else after that until Strange. Billy’s face fell and he kept his eyes forward. He sighed and took a deep breath.

“Awful. It was like nothing mattered, because I didn’t matter.”

“How did you do it? How did you get through it on your own?”

Billy sighed again.

“I have no idea. I think if I’d stayed then I wouldn’t have.”

“What do you mean?”

“I ran away Wanda. I ran away from the home.”

Wanda remembered the conversation. It was a while ago, but still, that kind of experience you don’t really forget.

“You said you were only eleven” she said.

Billy nodded.

“In a perverse kind of way, it was the only thing that kept me going, the thought that I would leave that home. When I found out he died, it didn’t matter how old I was, I just knew I needed to leave. It gave me purpose” he said, “is that a terrible thing or what?”

Wanda thought for a moment. She couldn’t entirely disagree, it was definitely a bad situation, but she also couldn’t agree. He’d had a thought driving him, keeping him going even in the worst times. Maybe that’s what she needed, some kind of purpose. If everything ended up fine then it wouldn’t matter. If everything went wrong, well, then at least she had something she could put herself to. But what? Then she remembered the woman twitching on the floor of the apartment building, the man stuck in a wheelchair with dreams of walking again, and a spy attacked in her own bedroom. That’s what she’ll do. She would help Doctor Strange and Billy find and stop Mordo. That would be her purpose.

 

The Quinjet wasn’t far from them, nestled at the edge of the city. There wasn’t an airport so she’d had to pay for parking in a vacant lot. The lot was pretty much deserted anyway, not many people left in the city had access to a car. She was slightly surprised that it was undamaged; surely somebody would have tried their luck. Maybe people had tried, but thought better. Or maybe they saw it and recognised it for what it was. The Avengers were not welcome in Sokovia. She flipped open a small panel by the bay door and scanned her hand. There was a small beep of confirmation. 

“Quinjet access: Scarlet Witch” she said.

There was another small beep and the bay door opened. It was a silly idea that Tony had had, but it did make a certain sense. Give everyone codenames so they could use voice access without having to give away their identities. Not that that mattered much, most people knew their names, but the thought was still here. Unfortunately, Tony had also been the one to come up with the codenames. Most of the Avengers had preassigned names, like Captain America or Iron Man, but others like herself and Billy, had to be given them. How Tony decided on Scarlet Witch, she had no idea. None of them had any idea about magic at the time. Billy’s was Wiccan, though apparently Peter had come up with that one. The cool interior of the Quinjet was quite welcoming and a lot less harsh than the conditions outside.

“You have an incoming call from Mr Stark” FRIDAY said over the intercom.

“What, really?” Wanda said.

Had Tony been trying to call her? She knew better than to deny Tony when he wanted to talk, especially when she stood in one of his jets, so she told FRIDAY.

“Ms Maximoff, how nice of you to pick up” Tony said.

“Is Vision alright?” she asked.

“I know you’re worried about that, and if I had my way I wouldn’t be calling, but the wizard has been trying to contact you about something and he keeps buzzing me and not leaving me alone” Tony said.

“What’s Doctor Strange wanting?” Billy asked.

“Ball of emotions, didn’t expect to hear from you. He said something about a guy called Mordo and the next one on list. I don’t know, he was pretty vague. He left these instructions for you guys” Tony said.

One of the screens of the Quinjet flicked on, displaying a name and a photograph.

“Now if you Hogwarts students don’t mind, I’ve got work to do” Tony said, and without even letting process anything he’d said, the call ended.

Well that was abrupt, she thought. Billy pulled out his phone and scanned through it, while she took in the information on the screen. The photo was from Sokovian ID card. Rade Petrovics. Retired shop owner. He certainly looked older. FRIDAY must have found his location. He was living in a resettlement centre that was set up in an old church, and somehow Strange had figured out that he was Mordo’s next target. Just their luck, they had to go somewhere they certainly weren’t wanted. As if he’d read her mind, Billy spoke.

“I can take the lead on this one if you’d like” Billy offered.

“That’s probably for the best” she said.

The church was a short way from the Quinjet so it didn’t take them long to get there. The closer they got, the more people they saw. They passed what seemed like a shanty market, having to push through the crowd of people shouting for whatever items were there. It didn’t look like much, most people would be leaving with nothing. Compared to the outside, the church was practically empty. It was a shell of its former self, the pews having been gutted and removed to make room for the beds. This was definitely no longer gods house. The beds all looked slept in, but most were empty. Everyone was outside, looking for food, clothing, jobs, anything. She didn’t need Billy to point out who they were looking for, he was one of the few still in bed. Rade Petrovics was sat up, leaning against one of the arching support columns of the church. It didn’t look especially comfortable, but he looked like he didn’t care. He looked like he didn’t feel much at all, his eyes seemed empty besides the few glances he made to the small photo clutched in his hand. There were lots of photos in this church. Wanda felt like all of their eyes were on her. They approached slowly, Billy taking the lead.

“Mr Petrovics?” he asked.

Petrovics looked up at them warily. His eyes scanned over Billy, taking in his youthful appearance, before passing over him to Wanda. If he recognised her, he made to move to suggest as much.

“What is an American doing here?” he asked.

His eyes may have been empty of emotion, but his voice certainly wasn’t. Hatred was barely concealed in his heavily accented voice, and he didn’t take his eyes off Wanda. It was like he was studying her.

“I just wanted to ask you about Kamar-Taj” Billy said carefully.

Petrovics glanced at Billy and narrowed his eyes.

“Why would I tell you about that place?” he said.

“Because sir, we think you’re in danger…” Billy started.

“Ha! Danger. As if you could protect me from danger. I was drafted into the Sokovian military even though I never wanted to be a soldier. I wanted to better myself so I found Kamar-Taj, but I had no intention in fighting in their war. You know what I wanted to do, open up a little shop of my own. I ran that shop for forty five years before thinking ‘maybe I can retire’, so I did. I passed my shop to my daughter.”

He chuckled slightly.

"She had so many plans for that shop.”

He fixed Wanda with a hard glare. It sent ice cold down her spine. He knew who she was. 

“But the shop’s gone now, and so is she, because of you” he said, his tone completely accusatory, “so tell me Avenger, what more can your protection take from me?”

Wanda had no idea how to answer that question. She’d hoped never to have to speak to anyone, she was far too ashamed, because he was right. They tried protecting people, but they had ended up destroying the city. Admittedly it was to save the world, but that was hardly a comfort to the people of Sokovia. The man didn’t relent in his glare.

“You were healed at Kamar-Taj, right?” Billy said, pressing the question.

“What of it?” Petrovics asked.

“There’s someone hunting people healed at Kamar-Taj. We need to make sure you’re safe” Wanda said, finally speaking.

“Ha! Of course there is” Petrovics said.

“Sir please…” Billy said.

“Don’t ‘sir please’ me little boy. I don’t care what happens, I’ve already lost enough. I’m just waiting till I can see my daughter again.”

“Mr Petrovics, we just want to keep you…” Billy said, but he cut himself off.

The sudden silence chipped Petrovics’ hard demeanour. His suspicion dropped slightly as they both watched Billy. He was staring off into space. Suddenly, he pushed Wanda to the floor before diving at Petrovics.

“Get down!” he yelled.

He dived over the bed, pulling Petrovics to the floor. Wanda heard the cracking and buzzing as the Staff of the Living Tribunal rushed over their heads. Mordo stood before them. The few other people in the church all ran from the building, shouting for help. Wanda sprung back up, energy flowed from her hands like they were on fire.

“Get him out of here!” Wanda ordered.

Billy nodded and disappeared with Petrovics in a burst of blue light. Mordo eyed her curiously.

“I remember you from the news. They call you the Scarlet Witch” Mordo said.

“And you’re the man that’s been hurting a lot of people” Wanda said.

“I see Strange has already gotten to you. It’s a pity” Mordo said.

Wanda attacked. The red energy flowed from her like fire. Mordo was ready for it, conjuring a shield to take the hit. He swung his staff. It whipped through the air, but Wanda ducked. Mordo charged forward. Wanda conjured smaller shields and threw them at Mordo. They cut through the air like razors. Mordo vaulted into the air to dodge them, Wanda rose to meet them. The Staff of the Living Tribunal clashed with her shield, knocking her back, but she was not done. From behind, she pulled one of the camp beds. It slammed into Mordo. He yelled in surprise, falling to the ground. He quickly recovered, rolling into his landing. Wanda landed as well. Her energy twisted and pulled, picking anything she could find up and throwing it at him. They bounced off Mordo’s shield.

“I can see why Strange took a liking to you. You have strength” he said, a sly smile on his face.

Wanda drew the energy through her fingers, feeling the scarlet whip taking shape. It slashed through the air, snaring both Mordo and shield. She pulled hard, forcing Mordo to one knee. Several beds rained down from above. Mordo pulled against her, forcing her to give ground, the beds clattering loudly against the floor. There were no more smiles. Mordo exuded the same aura of deadly calm as he had in New York. It put Wanda on edge. She had him!

“Look at you, hanging on by a thread” Mordo said.

He smashed his palms together. There was a blinding light and she whipped her hands up to shield her eyes. She heard the smashing sounds of metal on rock. Cacking and buzzing shot at her, only to be met with an eerie gong like sound. Billy was in front of her, the remnant of a blue shield fading away. The church was a mess. All of the beds were strewn about the place, several of them smashed into pieces. The floor was cracked and a few of the pillars looked close to giving away. Mordo stood amongst the wreckage, eyes full of fury, staff in hand. Billy turned to her.

“Wanda, you need to leave, now!” he said.

“But we’ve got him” she said.

She sent a blast of energy around Billy, but Mordo deflected it easily.

“No, you need to get out here” Billy said.

Wanda wanted to argue. She needed this, to be useful, to be doing something! There was movement, Billy hadn’t seen it. Mordo was charging. She saw his hand calw, aiming at Billy.

“Billy!”

Billy turned. His hand filled with crackling lightning and he slammed it into Mordo’s. There was a bright flash and a loud bang. Billy slammed into her, sending them both flying backwards into the wall. Instinctively, she cocooned them both as they smashed through the bricks and concrete and out into the street. The people of Sokovia screamed. Some ran, others stayed out of some morbid curiosity. She rolled over. Billy was lying beside her, clutching his arm. It was smoking slightly but otherwise seemed fine, though Billy’s face was scrunched in pain. Movement ahead of her drew her attention. Still with the same deadly calm, Mordo stepped from the church and into the light of day. The people around them backed off, not wanting to get involved in a superhuman fight. Mordo only had eyes for her. Before either of them could move however, orange sparks trailed through the air just in front of her, forming a portal. Through it stepped Doctor Strange. He glanced behind him, saw Wanda trying to get her breath back and Billy in pain before fixing his eyes on Mordo.

“End this Mordo. Stop what you’re doing. Please” Strange said.

“I don’t think so” Mordo said.

“Please, let’s talk. You and me. This doesn’t have to end badly” Strange said.

He was almost begging. Wanda tried pushing herself to her feet but couldn’t. Instead, she settled for a defensive position over Billy. Strange could handle Mordo, if he would only stop talking.

“Everything I would say to you has already been said. I’m sure your zealot has already told you everything.”

“He’s not my zealot Mordo, and these people you’re hurting aren’t Masters. They’re good people who just want to live their lives” Strange said.

“And I’m sure most robbers are good people fallen on hard times, but we still punish them” Mordo said.

“These people are innocent, that’s the difference.”

“They are not” Mordo said, quieter than before but that only increased the intensity.

“Please, leave them be. If you’re problem is with the Masters, then attack the Masters, not them.”

“Their time will come.”

“Mordo, I know you’re better than this. If you believe there’s a problem, then please, help me fix it” Strange said.

Mordo scoffed, taking a step forward. The loud bang of gunshot echoed up and down the street. Mordo clutched his shoulder, stemming the blood. Wanda scanned around for the source and found a lone police officer, nearly shaking in his boots, but with his gun pointed squarely at Mordo. Brave man, Wanda thought. Mordo’s face was full of fury but he obviously thought better than attacking. He slammed his palms together, casting the same flash of bright light as before. When it faded he was gone, a faint trail of sparks barely visible.

“Damn” Strange said under his breath.

Mordo got away again, Wanda thought. If only she’d been stronger, maybe she could have done more. Slowly, people started to return to the church. Some of them, probably the ones that had been staying at there, shouting in anguish. Or was it anger, Wanda couldn’t tell. Billy stoof, massaging his arm, and walked back into the church through the hole in the wall. Wanda tried again, this time finding her feet more easily.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him” she said to Strange.

“I think you did enough” Strange said, oddly delicately, which Wanda found odd.

She heard the sound of magic from inside the church. Blue light was flashing about, followed by the rumble of metal and stone. She made to go and help but Strange held out his arm to stop her.

“You’ve done enough Wanda” he said.

What did that mean? Billy had said something similar, but what had she done? Billy stepped out of the church, waving his arms and directing his magic to repair the damage.

“What’s it like in there?” Strange asked him.

“I fixed things up, but there was no way to know whose belongings were whose” Billy said.

“So once again, foreign powers drop into our country and it’s us normal people left to pick up the pieces.”

Pushing his way through the crowd, Petrovics stood before them. The police officer who shot Mordo hadn’t dropped his gun. He was aiming it at them.

“We’re really sorry about this” Strange tried saying.

“We don’t want your apologies, we don’t need them! We need you to leave us alone!” Petrovics said.

Several other Sokovians agreed, voicing their support.

“But sir, you’re still in danger” Wanda said.

Petrovics jabbed his finger at her.

“Yes I am in danger. We all are. We’re in danger from you!”

“Leave us alone!”

“Get out of this country!”

People started yelling, anger filling the air like smoke. Sokovian profanities that she wished she didn’t understand were hurled at them. Strange held his hands up in peace.

“Ok, we’re leaving” he said, and then in an undertone to Billy, “where’s the Quinjet?”

Billy led the way through the crowd. The shouting and swearing was worse. Men and women bore down on them, harrying them until they were on board the Quinjet and leaving. Wanda had lost fights before, but something about this had left her feeling defeated.

“I don’t understand. Couldn’t they see that it was Mordo attacking them? I mean, look at what he did to the church” she said.

Billy exchanged a look with Strange. There it was again, like some secret they were purposefully keeping from her.

“What is it?”

Strange nodded and Billy slowly, carefully, answered.

“Wanda that wasn’t Mordo” he said, “the damage in the church, that was you. You did that.”

Wanda gaped in disbelief. What! That couldn’t be. She was fighting, defending herself against Mordo, how did she, when did she? She would never do something like that. Would she? Oh god, what if she had? How useless was she? She couldn’t help save Vision and apparently, she couldn’t save anyone.  _Look at you, hanging on by a thread_. She hung her head in shame. If she couldn’t save people, then what was she? What purpose did she have? The people of Sokovia hated her, even though she had been trying to help them. If helping people only hurt them more, then what was the point in any of it?

 

Damn Strange! Why did he always have to get in the way? He’d been there at New York, he’d been there in Wakanda, and his disciple was there in Sokovia. Damn Strange! How had Mordo ever thought he was intelligent? How could he be training someone as clearly unhinged as Wanda Maximoff? She wasn’t a Master, yet she’d received some training in the Mystic Arts. All it seemed to do was let her energy flow much easier. It was all he could have done to stop the beds from crushing him. He’d tried blinding her to make her less dangerous, but instinct had taken over, which only increased her power. He was getting worried when the ground had started cracking. Thankfully, Billy had shielded her, snapping her out of it. Mordo ran his hand over his shoulder, healing his wound. He’d been so distracted by the arrival of Strange, he hadn’t noticed the police officer. It was a lucky shot. Mordo felt his ambitions shake slightly. He knew the Masters needed to answer for their crimes. Magic was dangerous in their hands, but maybe he had been too narrow. It would seem that magic was dangerous in anyone’s hands. Mordo stood, staring out across the Sokovian valley. If this world was to be safe, then Wanda needed to have her magic taken, before she did something too disruptive to fix. He needed to stop Wanda Maximoff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please feel free to leave any feedback you might have.
> 
> A quarter of the way to completion, what do people think of things so far?


	6. The Life We Live

It was unsettling to Wanda how quickly she’d gotten used to the buzzing and whirring of machines around Vision. It hadn’t even been all that long, maybe two weeks at most, since Vision had been rushed to the lab. His condition hadn’t improved, but then, it also hadn’t deteriorated either. She supposed that was a good thing. Most evenings she was spent at his side, only leaving it when Tony and Shuri shooed her away, or when Steve dragged her away so she could look after herself. Now she understood, at least slightly, how Tony could go for days without eating or sleeping properly. If Steve didn’t make her eat regular meals and have a shower at least once every other day, she probably wouldn’t do either. This wasn’t good for her, and it wasn’t doing Vision any good. After Sokovia, after failing to catch Mordo and apparently making things worse for the people living there, there was nowhere else she could see herself being. Apparently, the Sokovian government wanted her to answer for the damage she’d caused. Steve had managed to smooth things over, but she herself had stepped down from active duty with the Avengers. No need to potentially get into more trouble, she thought. But she couldn’t help but also think about Sokovia, and it worried her. It worried her how easily she lost control. She didn’t even remember doing anything like that. She’d been fighting Mordo yes, but he’d blinded her, she just shielded her eyes. No, that wasn’t true, she acted instinctively, reflexively. Were those her instincts? To lash out and destroy? No they couldn’t be, she thought, you’re an Avenger. But you’re also a HYDRA weapon. She shook her head of the thoughts. It would do no one any good to dwell on things like that. All she could do was keep moving, even if all roads led back to Vision’s bedside. Vision himself was lying down on the bed, facing straight ahead. In the beginning, she’d been quite disturbed by it, but apparently Tony had instructed him to move as little as possible. It helped with the jerking, he’d said. Occasionally though, she caught Vision turning his head to the side to make sure she was still there. He hadn’t said anything either, another order from his two ‘doctors’. Don’t do anything that might make the degradation worse, that was their order.

“I don’t know if I’m allowed to talk to you or not” Wanda said tentatively.

Neither Tony nor Shuri were there to tell her off, but that didn’t matter. FRIDAY was always listening. When the AI didn’t object, she continued.

“It’s not fair that all you’ll be able to do is listen, but I just, I really need to talk to someone.”

She wanted to hold his hand, but she had been told not to. That was sensory input they wanted to avoid, and oh did that hurt her.

“I don’t know if you’ve ever wondered what your life would look like if you weren’t an Avenger. I didn’t. My life has been bouncing from one fight to the next so the Avengers is nothing new.”

“I guess what happened in Sokovia has made me actually give it some thought. What life would I have without the Scarlet Witch? And do you know what scares me the most? I have absolutely no idea how to answer that question.”

“If it wasn’t the Avengers, it was HYDRA. If it wasn’t HYDRA, it was Tony Stark. Before Tony Stark, I was too young to know anything about my future. Is that all I am, just somebody looking for a fight?”

She caught the slightest hint of movement. Vision’s eye was trained on her. There was no change in his face, no trace of emotion present, but she could feel in those eyes his answer. Of course you’re not. She wasn’t so sure.

“Maybe not, but either way it doesn’t help answer the question. What would my life, would our life be like, if we weren’t Avengers?”

She gave it some thought, more serious than she had done before.

“I hope we’d still be together. People’d probably think you’re British, but then I guess you were based on a British person.”

Vision shifted, only very slightly. It was like a shrug saying fair enough. Wanda chuckled.

“You’re not supposed to be moving” she said lightly.

She swore she saw him role his eyes. She chuckled again.

“I wonder where we’d live. I quite liked that little flat in Edinburgh, but then I loved being in Switzerland. I guess we can talk more about that when you’re better.”

Vision was once again looking at her, silently asking her to keep going.

“You’d do really well with a normal job, I can absolutely see you working with children. You’re so patient and calm and you always know what to say. Well, mostly.”

The tiniest hint of a smile was on Vision’s face.

“What would I do?” she mused aloud.

If only Vision could talk to her, this would probably be a much more productive conversation. What would she do?

“I think I’d like to work with people, maybe a social worker or something like that. I don’t know” she said.

Vision’s eyes were full of sympathy for her, which only made her appreciate him all the more. Even now, when he was close to dying, he was thinking of her, and all without saying a word. What would she do without him?

 

The atmosphere in the compound was slightly subdued as everyone was worried about Vision. Wanda preferred to stay in her room when she wasn’t with Vision. As much as she loved the family she’d found herself with, she didn’t want to be constantly asked how Vision was doing, or how she was holding up, or if there’d been any updates. At night, she could wander about without having to talk to anyone. Obviously she should be sleeping, but the bed felt far too empty. The corridors and hallways of the compound were the perfect place to walk out her thoughts and feelings, to pound them into the concrete beneath her feet until they were more manageable. It was working, at least a little bit. She didn’t walk anywhere in particular, rather she just let her feet take her somewhere, but for some reason it always led her back to the kitchen. There was a faint smell hanging in the air, and the toaster oven was out. Someone had been making a late night snack. The sounds of the TV carried through from the adjacent lounge. She poked her head around the door, wondering who it was, to find Clint slouched on the couch, eating his toastie while the news played on the screen. He turned in his seat and spotted her in the dark.

“Wanda” he said, “didn’t think you’d be up.”

“Yeah well, I couldn’t sleep” she said.

“Didn’t think you would. Come join me.”

He patted the space next to him. Wanda shrugged and did so, slouching equally as low as him. The news was talking about somebody who’d won some talent show in Australia.

“I don’t know why you want to watch the news” she said.

She and the media didn’t exactly get on very well.

“I live on a farm in the middle of nowhere. I like to know what’s going on” Clint said, sweeping up his crumbs and settling down again.

“How’re things?” she asked.

“On the farm? Things are going well. Nate really does take after his namesake. He’ll keep me fit just by chasing him all the time” he said with a chuckle.

Wanda smiled, though slightly pained. She knew Clint saw it. He saw everything.

“Don’t they wonder where you go, your kids I mean?” she asked.

Clint thought for a moment.

“You know, that might be one of the best things for me to come out of SHIELD going kaput. Before, I had to skirt around what I did with my kids. Now, when I leave, they think I’m going off to save the world” he said with a smile on his face.

Silence fell over them briefly before Clint broke it.

“Go ahead, ask me.”

Wanda looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I know I’ve been away a while, but I’m not completely cut off” he said, placing a hand comfortingly on her shoulder, “I know this is a hard time for you.”

Wanda looked away. She did not want to talk about Vision right now.

“As much as I appreciate getting to brag about my kids, don’t think I didn’t catch your reaction. There must have been some reason you asked about them, so what is it?” Clint asked.

Wanda sighed.

“It’s nothing really. It’s just, everything with Vision, it’s made me think about what I am beside this” she said, gesturing to the building around them, “you have a family, a life, waiting for you at a home which isn’t here. You of all of us have every reason to leave this behind. Don’t you ever think about it?”

“All the time” Clint said immediately.

He said it so quickly after her question that she was actually quite taken aback by it.

“You think about living a normal life with your family?”

“Absolutely. Who wouldn’t?” Clint said, just as readily.

Again, she was taken aback by his quick response.

“Then why don’t you?” she asked.

Clint was silent for a few moments, as though pondering the question.

“I’m not gonna lie, I do worry that one day I’ll leave for a mission and not come back. That scares me more than psychotic robots or homicidal space madmen. But when I do go home, I get to see my kids smile. I get to see them be happy, and man, does that make it worth it. They’re happy and safe in this world because I do what I do.”

He took a deep breath before continuing.

“I don’t exactly hide that I didn’t have the best time growing up. Because of SHIELD and this team, I’ve seen more than my fair share of unhappy childhoods. I can do something about that. I owe it to them to do it, I owe it to my kids, and I owe it to myself, so I’m gonna take this life and run with it.”

He sighed slightly.

“I just hope I can make my kids proud of me” he said.

Wanda reached over and placed her hand on his shoulder, mimicking his gesture from before.

“They are proud of you” she said.

The pair smiled at each other in the dark room, before both turned their attention back to the screen. The news had finished, replaced by a cheesy movie that she was sure her dad had never shut up about.

“Love this movie” Clint said under his breath.

Wanda chuckled. It must be a dad thing, she thought, though she had much more on her mind now. Clint stayed, not despite the people who needed him, but because of the people who needed him. He fought to help other people so they could be happy and safe, like his kids were. It was certainly admirable. She was wrenched from her thoughts by her stomach grumbling, loudly. Clint heard it and smirked. Before she could say anything, he was on his feet.

“I think someone needs a snack” he said, bounding to the kitchen.

 

The Sanctum was filled with the usual calm energy, though if she focussed, Wanda could just about feel some kind of tension. Maybe this was her skills in magic improving, or else there actually was tension. Wanda wound her way through the building, treading as familiar a path as she could to the library. She didn’t intend on staying. She only wanted to pick up a couple of books so she could keep up to speed. It would always be a good distraction. She browsed the shelves, trying to find the book Strange had mentioned. She heard a shuffling behind her and whipped around. Billy was walking towards her, head buried in a book and not paying any attention to her at all. She stepped back, knocking a loose book from a shelf. It landed with a thud and Billy jumped. He saw her and smiled, though also looking slightly confused.

“Wanda, I wasn’t expecting to see you here” he said.

“Don’t worry, I just came to get some things.”

She returned to looking for her book, but couldn’t find it. The books weren’t arranged in any order she recognised. Billy was still at her side.

“Need any help?” he asked.

“Please. Who ordered these books?” she said, slightly frustrated.

She hadn’t realised it, but being so far from the compound was getting to her slightly. 

“Wong did, and yeah, it’s a bit confusing at first” Billy said.

She told him what she needed and he scanned the shelves, pulling out the books. Why they were there was beyond her, but it seemed to make sense to Billy. He handed them over to her.

“Do you need a cheat to get back?” he asked.

“No, should be fine” she said, turning to walk away when a question occurred to her.

It was probably incredibly personal, and she fully expected Billy not to answer it, but given where her brain was right now, she was curious. She turned back around. Billy had been about to open his book again, regarding her expectantly.

“Billy” she started delicately, “do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Feel free to say nothing.”

“What is it?” Billy asked, getting slightly impatient.

Wanda sighed

“Do you ever wonder what your life would be life if you didn’t do this?” she asked, gesturing to the building around them.

Billy leaned back against the bookshelf, considering the question.

“I don’t think there’s much to say really” he said, “I’d be dead or on the streets.”

“How so?” she asked.

“Well I wasn’t exactly getting adopted, Mrs Monty saw to that. I probably would have ended up on the streets anyway, so it just depends on whether I could have survived or not” he said.

That made sense, she thought.

“Do you ever wish it was different?”

“You mean do I wish I had a family?” Billy said, catching on quickly.

Wanda felt incredibly guilty, fully aware as she was that this was potentially a sore subject.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine” he said.

“No I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“I don’t mind Wanda” Billy said.

“You don’t?”

“No. Do I wish I had a family? Of course I do. Would I try and change things now? I have no idea. But I don’t mind it because I have people now in my life who I care about and who care about me. As far as I’m concerned, that’s family” Billy said.

Wanda nodded, more than willing to let the subject drop. Before either of them could say anything, Doctor Strange suddenly appeared between them.

“I thought you were going to get a book Billy” he said, with his back to her.

“I was, but then I got distracted” Billy said, gesturing to Wanda behind him.

He turned and looked slightly startled, almost like how Billy had been.

“Wanda, I wasn’t expecting to see you” Strange said.

“I know, that’s what Billy said” she said, “I was just leaving.”

She thanked Billy for the books and left, heading towards the exit. She wanted to get back to the compound as quickly as possible. She rounded the corner, seeing the main door down at the bottom of the stairs and across the main hall. She had barely taken a step when Doctor Strange appeared in front of her. He often did that, appearing instead of walking.

“Wanda, may I have a word?” he asked.

She nodded, curious what he was after.

“I know there’s an awful lot going on at the moment, so please don’t feel like you have to keep up with your studies” he said, “Vision should be your priority.”

Ok, she had kind of expected that. But there was something off. The slight tension she could feel was coming from Strange, and it seemed directed at her.

“Is this because of Sokovia?” she asked.

It was a reasonable assumption. Steve had wanted to take her off of active duty after Lagos to let things smooth over. If Strange wanted to do something similar, she could completely understand.

“Not entirely. Magic requires focus, which you won’t be able to do effectively or safely right now” he said, quickly enough that it might have even been the truth.

She nodded. That also made sense.

“Don’t worry” she said, holding up her books, “these are for light reading and distractions.”

“I suppose you’ll be wanting to get back to the compound then” Strange said, seemingly satisfied with the matter.

“Yeah, I was just going to get a cab” she said.

Strange shook his head.

“Absolutely not. Don’t waste your money” he said.

Before she could protest, he’d slipped the sling ring on his fingers and drew the portal into the air. Beyond was the lounge at the compound, and a very confused looking Bruce Banner sitting on the couch. She thanked him and stepped through, not wanting things to get awkward. Bruce nodded to her as she went back to her room. He was a doctor, he knew better than to ask questions about Vision. Her phone buzzed. It was a message from Peter. Nothing too fancy, just a sweet gif and ‘hope you’re ok’. It made her smile all the same. It was like Billy said. People cared about her, and she cared about them. Maybe she hadn’t entirely sorted out her thoughts, maybe she still didn’t know what or how she wanted her life to look like, but right now, Vision was in the best of hands, so she was happy enough to wait and see.

 

The building stood tall and proud against the wide field before it. The grey concrete and steel was sharp, cutting a place for itself among the rural landscape. The bustle of activity was constant, people hurrying, vehicles moving. Everyone and everything had a purpose, and somewhere in there was Wanda Maximoff. He knew it. So began the process, like he had done for the others, where Mordo would watch and wait. Learning magic had taught him patience, but life had taught him to wait for the right moment rather than rushing in. That lesson was more appropriate now than ever. One mistake would have the Avengers closing ranks, and he didn’t fancy getting into a fight with them, not on their home turf. No, he would wait, he would bide his time. The moment would come eventually, and when it did, Wanda Maximoff would be taken off the board.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter, but I didn't think it really needed to be longer, since it was more contemplative.
> 
> As always, please feel free to leave any feedback you may have and thank you for reading.
> 
> Apologies. I tried to get the next chapter finished and uploaded but I've been having quite annoying technical issues which haven't really been resolved, so I've been quite delayed. Hopefully it should be ready soon. Thank you


	7. The Calm

She tried, she really did. She knew that Tony and Shuri were going to be working very hard, very intensely, for at least a few hours, but Wanda couldn’t help but hover. It was like they were performing surgery on Vision.

“Micro-phaser” Shuri said.

Without even looking, Tony handed her the tool from a nearby tray. She was leaning over Vision’s head, tools carefully working around the mind stone approximation. Tony was bent low, his tools going in through Vision’s throat. They’d had to reassure her numerous times that this wouldn’t hurt, that they were tricking Vision’s cells to phase the tools through so they could work without damaging anything. Still, watching it was difficult.

“Sonic manipulator” Tony said.

Like he’d done, Shuri handed it over without breaking her own concentration. Holographic HUD’s were flashing before their faces, showing them exactly what they were doing as they worked. On practically every other screen in the lab, code was compiling. Wanda knew that FRIDAY was watching it run like a hawk while the two were busy. When a breakthrough happened, Wanda had almost expected trumpets, maybe shouting, loud congratulations. Instead, Tony and Shuri, who had worked for five days solid, speaking only to each other and only working on this, had stopped. They’d conversed in low voices. They’d swapped jobs, checked every inch of their work for mistakes. This sudden change, no doubt intended to be low key so as not to draw unnecessary attention, unfortunately had the effect of making everyone watch in anticipation. Eventually, after several more days of quiet discussions, they’d called in Wanda and Steve, informing them that they might have something of a fix. It wouldn’t solve things entirely, but it would at least prevent things from getting worse.

“Of course, it’ll take time. We need to set everything up, run more tests. We do not want this blowing up in our faces because we rushed it” Tony said.

It only occurred to Wanda after the fact that Tony Stark showing caution was either the sign of the apocalypse or how much he really wanted this to work. So for two weeks, Tony and Shuri had ensconced themselves away again. No doubt both of them had other responsibilities they were ignoring. Tony was head of R&D for a multi-billion dollar company, and Shuri was a princess. She wasn’t even in the right country. Yet, they ignored whatever consequences their single minded focus might bring to help Vision. The selfless part of her wanted to chastise them. Vision wasn’t the only one who needed them, but the selfish part wanted nothing less and was incredibly grateful. Actually, all of her was grateful. Currently, they were trying some new hardware architecture. She hadn’t understood the science or the engineering, or any of it really, only that it would help support the software changes which should, in theory, stop the degradation from getting worse. The tension in the room was enough that she could practically hear the high performance gears of the two genius brains turning. Then there was a distinct click. Both Tony and Shuri froze, staring each other down.

“On the count of three” Shuri said, turning her focus back to her tools.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three” they both said.

There was another click and both looked to the main screen, which had been pulled closer to the table. Wanda knew enough about programming to know what error messages looked like, and judging by the lack of them she was seeing, whatever they’d done had been successful. The collective held breath of the room was released as Tony and Shuri withdrew their tools. Rounding the table, they hugged each other in relief. Wanda watched them, her agitation growing. She didn’t want to mess anything up by approaching, but she desperately wanted to know if it was a success. She didn’t have to wait long as Tony soon walked over, Shuri tidying up the tools.

“I have bad news, good news and better news” he said with a smile.

Even though Wanda frowned, she felt a slight relief.

“What’s the bad news?” she asked.

“Nah, I’ll start with the good news” Tony said teasingly.

So he was teasing her, this must be a good sign, she thought, right?

“The good news is it worked. As far as we can tell, the new architecture has been installed with no problems.”

“The bad news, well it’s really more like less than good news, but anyway, the bad news is that we’re not out of this yet. We still have the new subroutines to add in, and we want to do that slowly. We’ll add it bit by bit, monitoring each piece as it goes in to make sure everything’s running smoothly.”

That wasn’t so bad.

“That doesn’t s- s- sound so b- bad” a mechanical British voice said.

She gasped. Vision had spoken for the first time in weeks. He was propping himself up weakly, but he was moving. Shuri hurried to his side, helping him get into a comfier position.

“That would be the better news. We needed to know how things were looking on his end, so we made sure to fix his vocal chords first. Meaning, he can talk” Tony said.

Wanda moved past him to be at Vision’s side, taking his hand in hers and feeling so much joy when he squeezed back. Tears formed in her eyes, when a sudden jolt of panic cut through the happiness. Should he be moving at all? As if she’d sensed the question, Shuri spoke.

“We are still in uncertain waters, but we are confident in our repairs. He should be able to speak, as well as have limited movement, though I would suggest we not push too far too fast.”

Wanda nodded, understanding perfectly. Vision gave her another reassuring squeeze, before they naturally let the contact drop.

“I co-ompletely agree” he said, frowning slightly at the distortion in his voice.

“I thought there’d be something like this. Like we said, the fix isn’t perfect” Tony said, joining them at the bed, “we’re gonna take things nice and slowly. No over exerting yourself,” he jabbed a finger at Vision.

Vision nodded.

“Thank you. Both o-o-f you” he said.

Wanda added her own thanks, though she struggled to form the words. Vision was coming back. Sure they weren’t out of the woods yet, but they were getting there. It would all be over soon.

 

Strange was always open to being surprised. It was an occupational hazard of being a Master of the Mystic Arts. You would never know it by looking at him though. Years as a doctor of medicine had taught him how to hide his thoughts or else patients would be able to read him. It also helped that he was much more, shall we say, colder back then. He certainly wasn’t that person now. It had taken several weeks of work on Billy’s part, but he’d made great progress in repairing the Torn World. Gravity was more or less stable throughout, the floating chunks of land had slowly sank to the ground as whatever force holding them up faded. It had been quite the sight to see, and a pleasant end to that phase of the operation. But that was yesterday, today the trickier part began, to reincorporate those separate chunks back into the world proper. Strange knew Billy could do it, but he needed to know where his limits were. He worried about his students, as anyone would after Sokovia.

“He’s going to ask eventually” Wong said to him as he poured over a book.

Strange imagined he was wearing glasses so he could look over the top of them at Wong.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” he lied.

“Really? You don’t think he’s going to notice how much time you’ve been having him spend there, using his magic in a way that you’d always told him was wrong” Wong pushed.

Strange sighed.

“I know Wong. I do!” he insisted when Wong raised an eyebrow at him.

“He’s smart Strange. He’ll know something’s up” Wong said.

Strange stood, ignoring Wong, and checked the time. He huffed in frustration.

“Billy should have been here ten minutes ago” he said.

“Well he hasn’t left the Sanctum” Wong said offhandedly, shuffling books on the shelves.

Strange sighed, though it was tempered somewhat. At least he hadn’t snuck out. He knew all about what Billy and Peter got up to, he knew all about the heroics. He also knew about the difficult place Peter had been in recently which Billy had helped him through. They’d been spending a lot of time together, and Strange couldn’t help but worry. Worried that Billy would get hurt while he tried to save people. Worried that Billy would let his powers go astray. Worried that he’d let his powers go too far. The image of a ruined church flashed before his eyes. He worried about his students. He shrugged the cloak from his shoulders and it flew through the Sanctum. Wong watched it go with a raised eyebrow.

“You’ve been working him very hard Strange. Let him rest” he said, “we’re not all workaholics like you.”

Strange ignored the comment. A short while later, just when he was starting to move from anxiously waiting to annoyed pacing, the cloak flew back. He waited, expecting Billy to follow but he didn’t come.

“Wait, did Billy just ignore you?” he asked.

The cloak shook its ‘head’.

“Then where is he?”

The cloak froze, rolling its ‘hands’ through the air like it was trying to come up with an excuse. A bubble of anger formed in Strange’s chest. Billy just ignored him! Probably not, but still, maybe him sending the cloak had annoyed him. He stalked off through the Sanctum. The cloak flew in front of him, holding its ‘hands’ out to stop him. He paid it no mind, grabbing it and replacing it on his shoulders. He felt it pull him slightly but he ignored it. He was fully prepared to bust down Billy’s door for ignoring him. He didn’t even knock and the door swung open, surprisingly softly.

“Billy” he said.

He expected frenzied movement, but there was none. The curtains in the room were haphazardly drawn, letting more than enough light into the room for him to see. Billy was curled up on top of his covers, still wearing his training gear from the day before, and fast asleep. As fast as the anger had appeared, it was gone even faster, and Strange felt horrendously guilty. Wong was right; he had been pushing Billy hard. It was necessary though, he thought. Billy needed to be ready. He needed control. He crossed the room, closing the curtains properly. As he left the room, he thought Billy probably needed a blanket or something. The cloak lifted from his shoulders and settled gently down on the sleeping teen. He closed the door softly and walked away. He wasn’t going back to the library. Wong was not getting that satisfaction, Strange still had that much stubborn pride. No, he would let Billy rest for a few days then they’d get back to it. He could wait a few days. His worry wasn’t that bad.

 

The funny thing about worry is that it gets everywhere. It starts somewhere in the stomach, where it churns away, leaving you feeling unsettled and wrong. The mind knows what’s going on, but it tells itself that everything is fine. It moves through the body. Heart beats are far more noticeable, breaths taken have a slight shake to them. It settles in the joints, leaving them feeling stiff and tense, ready for the tension to break at any moment. Throughout it all, the mind knows what’s going on. It knows why it is worried. Strange knew why he was worried. He’d known it ever since Sokovia, when Wanda had lost control, however briefly it might have been. He would not let that happen. He’d all but outright told her that she shouldn’t be training. He didn’t think she would, given the circumstances, but he needed to be sure. That only left one thing for his worry to dwell on, the teen asleep in his room. Strange had been very restrained, as restrained as he could be. If only Billy had mastered astral projection, he could rest and Strange could continue to prepare him. When Billy had woken up, Strange made no mention of training, and neither did Billy. Instead, Billy had done some more of his school work, even going to Peter’s so they could work together. Billy seemed to think that Strange didn’t know about that, but he did. He acted like it was some secret, and Strange was happy to play the part. Billy could pretend to be a rebellious teenager and Strange could give him some freedom to be normal for a change. God, was normal difficult to come by. Worry twisted inside of him at the mere thought of a rebellious Billy, making him want nothing more than to portal into the apartment in Queens and drag him back so they could continue.

“What can I get you my lovely?” Mrs Mackintosh asked, snapping him out of his reverie.

Oh right, he was going to the diner because he forgot to eat lunch.

“I’ll just have my usual please Mrs Mackintosh” Strange said, still distracted.

Mrs Mackintosh shot him a look.

“Sheila, Stephen. How many times” she said under her breath.

She set about preparing his sandwich as he sat at the counter. Billy should be heading back soon, then tomorrow they can get back to work.

“You’ve got your head in the clouds” Mrs Mackintosh said as she transferred the sandwich to the toaster.

“Was it that obvious?”

“A wee bit, but then not much gets passed me. I think you’d thank your lucky stars you’ve only got the one if you heard what my boys tried getting away with.”

He’d need to hide his thoughts better. Wait, just the one?

“What do you mean, just the one?” he asked.

Mrs Mackintosh merely raised an eyebrow at him.

“Billy’s not my son” he said simply.

She shook her head.

“Aye so you say. Maybe not in blood, but you’re all that boys got so you might as well be.”

She leaned over to one side and waved.

“Speak of the devil, here he is” she said.

Strange heard the bell ring as the door swung open. Mrs Mackintosh swooped out from behind the counter, pulling Billy into a strong hug, which he gladly returned, before he took the stool beside Strange.

“You all finished for the day?” Strange asked him.

Billy nodded.

“Good, because tomorrow we’re starting something new” he said.

Billy cocked an eyebrow, understanding his meaning. Mrs Mackintosh clicked her tongue.

“You work him too hard Stephen” she said.

The toaster pinged and she quickly set about bagging the toastie up. Strange turned to Billy properly.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here” he said.

Billy blushed slightly.

“Um, well, I finished and thought I’d swing by this way, maybe pick something up” Billy said, through carefully masked nerves.

“Just missed out I’m afraid” Mrs Mackintosh said.

Strange eyed them both but allowed Billy this secret, for now. Strange paid for his food and the pair of them went back to the Sanctum.

 

“Concentrate Billy” Strange said.

“You know, it’s very hard to concentrate with you telling me to concentrate!” Billy said.

Strange could understand his frustration. They’d been at this for three days now, three days of Billy trying and failing to reincorporate the pieces back into the world. Strange had said that this world was to test the limits of Billy’s magic as he tried putting it back together, that much was true, but he felt that Billy was intentionally holding back. He kept glancing over at Strange as though he was waiting for something to happen, for some comment to be made. Strange wasn’t sure what he was waiting for, but he was determined to see where Billy limits lay, so that he could better help him control his magic, so while Billy was frustrated with not being able to complete his task, Strange was frustrated at Billy’s seeming reluctance. They were stood in front of a solid sphere of rock lying half buried in the ground. It rose high above them, a solid block against the technicolour sky. Shimmering pulses of blue magic warped over its surface, emanating from Billy’s hands which were pressed against the rock. His eyes were scrunched shut in concentration, but Strange saw out of the corner, whenever he turned away, Billy would be looking at him.

“Ok stop” Strange said.

Billy took his hands away, breathing deeply.

“What’s going on? Why aren’t you trying?” he asked.

“What do you mean? Do you not see me trying here?”

“I see you stopping whenever you think I’m not looking” Strange said.

Billy huffed.

“You know what. Maybe I just can’t do this. You said you wanted to test my limits, well here they are” he said.

“No, we’re not stopping. I’ve seen you do things like this before. The only reason why you can’t now is because you’re not trying!”

Billy stepped forward, closing the distance between them.

“Why don’t you just say what you really want here? Because I don’t think you’ve been very honest with me about this” Billy said, angrily.

Whether it was genuine anger or just born of frustration, Strange couldn’t tell. Billy’s eyes burned slightly and Strange felt his worry return.

“Billy calm down” he said.

“No, I want the truth. I read the book on natural law, I know why you’re really training me, so just tell me what you want!”

Blue energy burned into the rock, flattening and deforming it. Billy’s eyes burned intensely and Strange backed off.

“Billy, calm down!”

“Why!”

“Look behind you.”

Billy did so. The look of confusion on his face drowned out any remaining anger he had when he turned back to face Strange.

“Was that me?” he asked.

Strange nodded.

“I told you you could do it, so why aren’t you?”

Billy sighed, walking away from him.

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

Strange frowned and Billy continued.

“I thought you wanted to train me because you wanted to.”

“I did” Strange said.

“But natural law…”

“Natural law says a lot of things, most of which common sense would have us avoid anyway” Strange said.

Billy didn’t seem convinced.

“I did want to train you, I can say that with certainty” Strange said, hoping Billy would believe him, “when I saw what your magic could do, I did get worried. What if you ever lost control?”

He gestured to the rock behind him.

“What if you used magic for the wrong reasons and made something too dangerous to handle?”

“I wouldn’t do that” Billy interjected. 

“Really? I’m sure Peter, Wanda and Vision would beg to differ, seeing as how they fought monsters from your nightmares.”

“That was an accident” Billy said, ashamed.

“I know it was, but that’s the point.”

Strange placed his hands on Billy’s shoulders.

“I know you wouldn’t misuse your magic intentionally. I want to train you so that you only use it when you mean to. That’s it” he said.

Billy sighed.

“That’s it?” he asked.

“That’s it.”

“So it’s not that you’re scared of my magic and want to stop me from using it?”

“Billy, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get scared of it sometimes. I know it might seem like I want to stop you from using it, but it’s only so that when you do use it, it’s on your terms” Strange said.

Billy sighed again and nodded. He stepped away from Strange and held his hands out to the rock. Blue pulses of magic flowed over its surface as it twisted and deformed, flattening out so that it blended into the ground beneath it. Billy lowered his hand once it was done.

“Well that was much quicker” Strange commented.

“It’s easier to focus on something I can see” Billy said, his voice sounding guilty.

Strange wrapped an arm around his shoulders and gave him a reassuring squeeze.

“I’m sorry for getting angry” Billy said quietly.

“No need to be sorry” Strange said.

“I just don’t know why you didn’t tell me that” Billy said.

“Tell me honestly, how would you have reacted if I had?”

Billy thought for a moment.

“Probably not well” he answered.

Strange gestured to the world around them.

“You have an amazing gift Billy. Why on earth would I want to take it away from you?”

This was the truth of the matter. His students could do amazing things. Potentially dangerous things to be sure, but amazing all the same. So Strange would make sure that they could be safe while wielding their gifts, and so that everyone else stayed safe as well. And that meant that he would worry, something which he never thought would happen to him. Strange worried about his students.

 

“I-I think we sh-shou-ould go on a trip somewhere.”

Vision’s glitchy voice cut across the faint sound of music from elsewhere in the compound. The noise from the party provided quite the pleasant background, especially since it wasn’t Tony’s music being listened to. No, no, it was Steve’s. It was his birthday after all. Despite Steve’s protests saying he was only 34, Tony being Tony, all the banners said 101. Everyone had a good laugh about it, even Steve when he realised that this meant that Bucky was even older than him. Wanda was dressed up nicely for the party, though she didn’t plan on staying for long. Vision couldn’t go and she didn’t want him to be all on his own. It was bad enough most of the time anyway. Vision never complained. He lay propped up, enjoying the company of whoever was in the lab at the time. Mostly it was one of Tony, Shuri or Wanda but all of the other Avengers had poked their heads in at some point to keep him company and stave off boredom. Just two more weeks, Wanda kept thinking. Tony and Shuri’s adjustments were going well. Vision could now move, though his coordination was off and he was much slower, but by his own choice after Tony recommended it. Wanda considered the question.

“A trip? How come? We’ve already seen a lot of the world” she said.

“Yes, we ha-ave, but that was always a case of sa-ave the place and l-leave” Vision said, “frankly I’d quite li-ike the cha-nce to look around. Wouldn’t you?”

Wanda considered for a moment before nodding.

“I think I would.”

Vision smiled. Things were getting back to normal.

“But where would we go?” Wanda asked.

They’d had conversations like this before, visiting places, moving somewhere to live. Though she had to suppress a shudder. The last time they’d talked about something like this was right at the start of Vision’s deterioration. No, this was different, he was getting better. That wouldn’t happen again. Vision didn’t answer her, instead he gestured to the small gift bag that lay beside where she sat next to the bed.

“Why don’t I think about it some more, while you go and enjoy Captain Rogers’ party?” he suggested.

Wanda shook her head, smiling. Truth be told, she didn’t really want to go, she’d feel too guilty about leaving Vision. However, Vision had reminded her that it would be rude not too, and her own manners won out in the end. She stood, picking up the bag.

“I’ll be back soon” she said, when Vision caught her hand.

“Please Wanda, enjoy yourself. I don’t want to you to just arrive and leave. Please, have fun, for me” he said.

Wanda smiled, the warmth she felt for the android, no the man, before her spreading through her. Of course he’d want her to have fun, surrounded as she’d be by the friends who’d become her family. She squeezed his hand.

“I will” she said.

She leant over and they shared a kiss. It was brief but it said everything else that needed saying. With a small wave, she left the lab, following the sound of music to the lounge. Despite its grand size, the lounge somehow seemed smaller than usual, but that might have been all the people standing around. Music mixed with chatter, bathing the room in a din of noise. She knew Tony had been the first to tease Steve about being over a hundred, but the hand painted banner could have only been Clint. Sure enough, the archer caught her staring at it and winked. She wound her way through the crowd, ducking as Thor swung out an arm, engrossed as he was with recounting some story of battle to T’Challa. She spotted the man of the hour. He was stood by the window, glass in hand, chatting with Pepper and Rhodey. Not wanting to interrupt, Wanda hovered.

“I can’t believe I was even invited to this” a slightly nervous voice said beside her.

She turned and saw Peter. He was holding a glass of sparkling liquid, but Wanda didn’t think for a moment that it was champagne like everyone else. There was no way in hell that Tony would let him anywhere near alcohol.

“Why wouldn’t you be?”

“I don’t know. He’s like a legend and I’m…”

“A hero who has fought alongside him, and who has every right to be here” Tony said, appearing from the crowd as if he’d teleported.

Peter jumped slightly, nearly spilling his drink.

“Hey kid, enjoying the grape juice?” Tony teased, “hi Wanda,” he added.

She smiled back. Tony and Peter could banter between them like no one else, and she didn’t want to stick around, especially when the conversation inevitably turned to…

“Wanda, while you’re here. Just thought I’d let you know that the next round of subroutines is all set to go. We can have it installed tomorrow” Tony said.

Wanda hadn’t expected it to be so soon; it felt like only yesterday they’d installed the previous update. When she looked confused, Tony continued.

“Yeah I know it’s quick, but really this patch is based on architecture we’ve already installed. It helps the processors talk to each other better…” and then he was off talking about programming and data streams and parallel processing, all things which Wanda knew nothing about.

Peter was hanging on with rapt attention, while Wanda looked for a way to eject from the conversation.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to give my regards” she said, shaking the bag of gifts.

“Of course” Tony said, “tomorrow remember.”

“Tomorrow” she repeated, leaving Tony and Peter to talk about whatever it is that geniuses talked about.

Steve was done talking with Pepper and Rhodey so Wanda took her chance. Steve smiled as she approached and Wanda suddenly felt guilty.

“You’re probably sick of all the happy birthdays by now” she said.

Steve chuckled.

“When you get older, there are more and more people to remind you of that” he commented light-heartedly.

“Don’t tell me Steve and Clint have gotten under your skin” she joked.

“Nah, I just use the wisdom from experience card” Steve said.

“And how well does that go?”

“Not very well.”

She held out the gift bag.

“Well, here it is from me. Happy birthday” Wanda said.

Steve accepted the gifts and the offered hug. It was brief, but warm all the same.

“It’s from Vision as well. He sends his regards” she said when they parted.

“Thank you very much. It’s a shame he couldn’t come” Steve said.

“”Yes it is” she said, hoping her discomfort didn’t show through her smile.

The last thing she wanted was to ruin the mood with her issues. If Steve noticed, he didn’t show it.

“I’ll have to drop by later, see how he’s doing” he said.

“Not tomorrow” she said, “Tony and Shuri are working on him tomorrow.”

Steve nodded.

“That’s gotta be one of the last ones, surely?”

“I think it is” Wanda said.

Steve’s smile grew at that.

“Then he’ll be back on his feet in no time. Now look, I know you’ll probably want to get back to Vision soon, but I think Laura brought some lasagne and wanted your opinion on the recipe. She said something about the spices not being perfect.”

“Sure” she said.

She did want to get back to Vision. While everyone was here, she couldn’t help but think of him alone in his room. Then again, she hadn’t eaten since lunch. Maybe swapping cooking tips would be the perfect excuse to have something to eat?

 

As it turns out, the lasagne was absolutely fine. Wanda would have perhaps had less cheese but that was her personal taste. Pietro had been the one to like cheese. She hadn’t realised it, but she had stayed at the party longer than she’d expected to. Part of her definitely felt guilty, how could she have left him for so long, but then again, Vision had told her to enjoy herself. And she had enjoyed herself. She’d gotten to catch up with her family, and only realised now just how shut off she’d been Everyone said they understood, and she could perfectly believe them. She found out that Peter was being home schooled and that Bucky had taken up baking as a hobby. Sam was renewing his counselling license and Sharon was leading an international task force on drug trafficking. Everyone had been getting on with their life while she’d been languishing. Good god, she needed to get a grip. Right, once this was all over, she and Vision were seeing the world. They’d take all the cheesy selfies in all the tourist places. They’d joke and laugh and run around like lunatics, then they’d settle down in a house, with jobs, maybe start a family of their own. She’d like that. The rest of the compound was bathed in a low light, the moons rays streaming through the huge windows lining the walls. The corridors were empty, everyone still at the party, but she didn’t mind the solitude. Vision was waiting for her. The lights to Tony’s lab were all off so she had to navigate by the moonlight. She’d tread this path so many times though that she could have gotten there with her eyes closed. Something felt off tonight. Pausing just before she opened the door, she turned, half expecting to see some enemy to fight but there was nothing there. So why did she have this unsettling feeling, like someone was watching her? Looking left was nothing, looking right was too bathed in shadows to see.

“FRIDAY…” she started.

“I know you are not evil child, but you are dangerous” a voice in the dark said.

Wait, she knew that voice! Yellow lights shone in the shadows, segmented together, as the weapon whipped out at her. It buzzed through the air and she only just reacted in time. It clattered against her shield with a bang. From the shadows came Mordo, his face set in solid determination.

“Mordo” she said, but she couldn’t continue as Mordo bore down on her.

He was relentless, more so than he had been in Sokovia. Up close, he was giving her no room to manoeuvre, and he was clearly better at hand to hand. She tried pushing him back, manipulating her magic, but he simply slammed her with his shoulder, sending her sprawling. Mordo whipped the Staff down hard, but she rolled away from it so all it did was gouge the ground. Back on her feet, she fired two blasts of magic, moving further away. Her blasts bounced harmlessly off Mordo’s shield and he lunged again. She filled the corridor with energy, blocking Mordo’s advance but he was relentless. Her shield wouldn’t hold for long. Quickly, she pulled the energy through her fingers, forming a deep red whip. Her only hope was to hold Mordo off and hope that FRIDAY would inform the others. Her shield broke and she swung. Mordo caught the whip with the Staff of the Living Tribunal. He braced and they were caught in a lock.

“You seem distracted” Mordo commented.

Wanda’s eyes flashed to the door which stood between them. Vision! She couldn’t lead him to Vision! In his condition, there was no way for him to help without causing horrendous damage. Mordo didn’t catch her glance, his focus was solely on her. Suddenly, he pulled against her, catching her off guard. In the seconds she flew through the air towards him, instinct took over, conjuring a shield of pure energy. It colliding with a bright blast of energy from Mordo, blasting them both backwards with a loud bang. Surely someone heard that. She could only just get back to her feet with the Staff caught her hard in the shoulder, slamming her into the window. True to Tony’s design, the window didn’t break, which only made the impact harder.

“You fight well, but the world will sleep safer now” Mordo said.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“Magic is dangerous enough, but in the hands of someone as fragile as you, it is world threatening.”

She only registered that he was getting closer by how loud his voice was. Through the stars popping into her vision, she saw him approaching, saw his hand make a clawing motion.

“You have my apologies” he said.

She closed her eyes just in time to hear something slam into Mordo, throwing him from her roughly. He landed a short distance away with a harsh grunt. Wanda opened her eyes. Vision stood over her, anger blazing across his face. It wasn’t standing really, more like a controlled floating.

“Vision no” she said weakly, but it was too late.

Vision fired his beam, aiming straight for Mordo’s heart. He blocked it with a shield, absorbing the energy. Electricity crackled and arced through the air. With a fluid motion, Mordo twisted the shield. He lightning jumped from the magic of the shield to the palms of his hand before being fired directly at Vision. As ungainly as he was, he couldn’t avoid it and every arc of electricity hit home. He fell to the ground with a loud thud.

“No!”

Vision’s body was jerking roughly but she held on, cradling his head in her lap.

“Wa-a-a-nda, I- I- I- lo- lo- lo- lo- lo- lo- lo- lo- lo-ve” Vision said, his voice the most mechanical she had ever heard it.

Gone was the warm British voice, replaced only by the computer, stuck in a loop over the same word again and again. With a whir, his pupils dilated, the jerking in his limbs grew less and less forceful and his voice grew quieter and quieter. Gently, she rested her hand on his chest, hoping to feel his breathing, a quirk of him becoming more human despite him not needing it, but it wasn’t there. No, she couldn’t find it! Vision was still in her arms, he wasn’t gone!

“That should only have incapacitated” an uncertain voice said but she barely heard it.

She didn’t hear the muffled footsteps, nor Mordo’s war cry. She barely even felt the surge of power, more than enough to shatter the reinforced glass and rattle off Mordo’s hastily constructed shield. Then it was all over.

“Not madness. Grief” she heard Mordo say.

He was watching her warily. She couldn’t stand it, the tears couldn’t be stopped. There were hurried footsteps, but she didn’t look to see who it was. She didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was the heavy weight in her lap. They could gawk and stare at her for all she cared about them, nothing was more important than cradling the vibranium body in her arms which had once belonged to the man she loved. He had died, joining everyone else from her life, leaving her alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise that it's been a while since I updated this. I was having (kind of still am having) computer trouble, as well as coming to the end of semester at uni and I didn't have time to write.
> 
> Thank you very much for reading this chapter. I very much would like to know what people think of it, as well as any other feedback you may have.
> 
> I can only apologise for the lack of updates. The semester of uni picked up in december and as I'm writing it, it's already getting long. I'm aiming to have it finished tomorrow, but I can't be certain. Thank you for the patience.


	8. The Storm

He wished there was rain. Somehow, rain would have made everything more real to them all. The Avengers had tasted defeat before, they knew what it was to lose people. Hell, just about everybody on the planet, in the universe, knew what that felt like. But they could fix that. The Avengers were heroes. They could bring back the people killed by Thanos, Tony and Shuri could slave away for weeks to bring back Vision, but now, now they couldn’t, and that made everything that much harder. Steve’s party had been winding down, as Tony knew parties were wont to do, when they’d heard the crashing. When FRIDAY didn’t respond, as one, they all ran through the corridors and hallways, trying to find where it was coming from, only to be kicked in the gut by the sight of Wanda cradling Visions lifeless body in her arms. The windows had been smashed out, there were gouges in the floor from whatever fight had taken place, and all of their focus was on the young woman.

“Bring him back” she’d said through tears, not looking up.

Oh did that hit Tony right in the heart, because he knew he couldn’t. He’d discussed it with Shuri, and even Vision when he could talk.

“I can’t” he’d said weakly.

She’d looked up at him.

“You’ve already done it once, just bring him back.”

“Wanda I…” his protest had been cut off.

Wanda’s eyes had blazed red. Tendrils of energy had wrapped around him, dragging him onto his knees and pulling him roughly so that he was inches from her.

“I said bring him back to me!”

“I’m sorry Wanda. Believe me I am. I wish I could” Tony said.

The energy faded, releasing him, but he didn’t move. She didn’t drop her gaze, sadness overwhelming her.

“Please” she whimpered.

That hurt, denying her, but he needed her to understand.

“I can’t. It was bringing him back that caused all of his problems in the first place. Sure we tried fixing it, but we still don’t know even know if it would work long term.  Bringing him back would only bring back all the pain he went through, and I’m sure you don’t want that.”

That was a special kind of guilt, trying to guilt her.

“Vision didn’t want it either.”

She tried speaking again, but the words caught in her throat. More tears shone in her eyes, threatening to spill. Silently, Clint was crouching beside her, pulling her into his arms. That was all that was needed to break the dam, and Wanda cried, hard. Maybe it was her telepathy, or maybe it was their collective grief, but Tony was sure he felt every single sob. So here he was, standing in front of rows of chairs that were slowly filling with people. The cemetery on the grounds of the Avengers compound had been built in a fit of over thinking on Tony’s part that had all started in Sokovia with the death of Pietro Maximoff. While he hadn’t known him all that well, the fact that he’d died trying to help them, as an honorary Avenger as they’d come to think of him, had solidified the vision of the future Wanda had given him, the fact that they were probably going to die in the line of duty. Nobody ever said so out loud, hence why the cemetery was small and tucked away. After Thanos had been defeated and the Snap reversed, he’d hoped this small plot of land would never see use.

As if the universe would be that kind.

The ceremony was small. Though the world would likely want to mourn its fallen hero, the Avengers couldn’t bring themselves to make a spectacle of it, so few were invited. Pepper was there, saving him a seat, with Happy at her other side. There was Peter, sat next to his Aunt, looking thoroughly odd in the black suit. Both Parkers had seen more than enough funerals to last a lifetime. Behind them was Sam, resolutely looking forward and not letting his thoughts show on his face. Sharon was there too, as was Maria Hill. Fury was conspicuously absent, at least to Tony. T’Challa and Shuri sat towards the back, flanked on either side by a fierce looking bald woman. All four held their heads down, observing some kind of ritual from Wakanda that Tony didn’t care to learn more about. Tony’s eyes made another pass, spotting two more had just arrived. Stephen Strange looked, for lack of a better term, strange in a suit and tie, lacking his usual robes. Next to him, Billy didn’t look nearly as weird in normal clothing. Only the teen wore his grief openly, Strange was much more reserved. All eyes turned to the final people to enter. Visions coffin was a dark wood, very plain looking but that didn’t stop it from drawing everyone’s attention. Bearing the load was Steve, Rhodey, Bruce and Natasha. They’d offered a place for Tony, but he declined, knowing that his part in the funeral would be hard enough. He stepped aside, allowing them to place the coffin on its pedestal. The last people to enter were Wanda and Clint. Tony didn’t know her as well as he would have liked, but he did know that she hated wearing black. To see her dressed entirely in the colour was frankly unnerving. Her eyes were trained solely on the coffin as she was led up the aisle with Clint’s arm resting across her shoulders, guiding her to her seat. When she sat, everyone else did. Tony took a deep breath as he stood once again before everyone.

“I remember the day Edwin Jarvis died. He meant so much to me, much more than my own father, that I didn’t even know how to process it. How do you go on with your life after losing someone like that?”

His eyes flickered over to Peter and his Aunt.

“Everyone here today has lost someone they loved, so it goes without saying that we are all deeply saddened by losing one more. Vision was unique, in so, so many ways, and I’m not talking about the technology or anything like that. He, um…”

God, why had he asked to speak first?

“He was everything good I remember about Jarvis. He had all of the patience, the calmness, kindness that helped me through so much, which he used to help us through similar times. He was so hopeful about the world. He wanted to see it all, to learn everything that he could.”

“And to think it all started with trying to stop a homicidal computer program.”

Thor should be here, Tony thought. He’d want to be here. They hadn’t seen him in a while, ever since he left to track down his people.

“I’m obviously not the person that Vision meant the most to, but he was my friend. I … I um …”

Deep breaths Tony.

“One of the first things he said to me was that he was on the side of life. I like to think that, that um. I like to think that he embodied that thought until … until the very end.”

It wasn’t one of the best speeches Tony had ever made, Tony would admit at as much, but it was the best he could do. He hadn’t been able to speak at his parents funeral, and God knows what he would have been like if he’d had to speak at Jarvis’, but he felt he owed this to Vision. A small thing to make up for not being able to save him. As Tony sat down, Steve stood to say a few words of his own, but Tony didn’t hear it. He was too caught up in something he was sure was irony. If Ultron was the first crack between them that led to that airport in Germany, then Vision was definitely the second. Now here they were, on the same side, mourning for the friend that could have been the end for them. Steve sat down, having finished talking. Tony was sure the old man had said something touching and heartfelt, the kind of thing which would be quoted endlessly by teenagers pretending to be deep on Facebook. The overcast skies started to clear slightly as the coffin was taken into the cemetery and they all followed it, hoping the next time they walked this path would not be for many years.

 

Strange was not entirely accustomed to funerals, and it was only his years as a medical doctor which let him mask his emotions. Billy not so much. The teen wasn’t exactly crying, but his eyes were definitely wet. Billy was no stranger to loss, but there was something about funerals which bring emotions close to the surface. Tentatively, Strange wrapped an arm around Billy’s shoulders and gave him a reassuring squeeze. He couldn’t stop his hands from trembling. The tremors were always there, but they were especially noticeable right now. Tony Stark was giving a eulogy, but Strange wasn’t paying attention. He could feel a deep pit of sorrow sitting two rows in front, and he knew it was Wanda. To say he was guilty would be a huge understatement. Why wouldn’t Mordo want to target Wanda? Given everything he’d said and everything they’d gleamed about Mordo’s motive, after Sokovia, Wanda would definitely be seen as a threat. He should have prepared her more, but she was with the Avengers, and even Strange didn’t think Mordo was foolish enough to attack the Avengers.

Apparently he was wrong.

So wrong he was that he hadn’t kept a closer eye, and now Vision was dead. The coffin was carried to where it would later be buried, and people made their condolences to Wanda, who stood by the coffin. Eventually, there were only four left, everyone else having gone back inside for the wake. Wanda remained by the coffin with Clint hovering nearby to give her space. Strange and Billy stepped forward. They were saved from speaking when Wanda turned around. Where previously Strange had been feeling waves of guilt from the woman, now all he felt was anger at the sight of him.

“You!”

The word burned in the air like fire.

“This is all your fault” she said.

Her eyes were red, both from tears and her powers. Though he couldn’t see it, Strange was certain that the mystical energies were flowing, all directed at him.

“Wanda, I am so very sorry for your loss” Strange said.

“If I hadn’t trained with you, if I hadn’t gotten involved with this … this … war you’ve been waging, Mordo would never have thought to come after me! And Vision…” she trailed off.

Strange flinched in pain, like he suddenly was overcome with a splitting headache. He marshalled his thoughts, constructing barriers and the pain subsided, almost as suddenly as it arrived. The mystical energies had stopped flowing, and he was sure Wanda’s eyes had returned to their usual colour, but he couldn’t really see past Billy. The teen had wrapped her in a strong hug.

“I’m so sorry” Billy said, only just managing to hold in the tears.

Slowly, Wanda brought up her arms so that she was reciprocating the hug. She let out a few sobs. When they broke out of it, Wanda stepped forward and Strange hugged her as well. He’d never been all that good at comforting people, even as a doctor those few times he hadn’t been able to help a patient, but this felt right.

“If I had known, I would have done more” Strange said quietly, “this is my fault.”

He felt Wanda shake her head and she stepped back. She was obviously trying not to cry and kept darting her eyes away from him.

“No, it wasn’t you” she breathed out, “it was Mordo.”

Strange frowned. That seemed far too quick. Wanda was a reasonable person, but losing a love one was enough to make anyone lose who they were, even temporarily. This kind of forgiveness felt too fast for Strange. Wanda walked away. She ran her hand down the length of Visions coffin. It wouldn’t be long before it was buried, six feet of dirt separating the pair, and she would never again be this close to him. Strange didn’t want to intrude any longer. He beckoned for Billy to follow but they had barely taken a step when Wanda spoke again.

“What happens now?”

Strange turned.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what are you going to do about Mordo?”

Strange made to answer then hesitated. What was that? He’d seen it in the corner of his eye, just for a second, like a glimmer of light, a shift in the air just beyond the fence of the cemetery. It almost looked like an astral form. But why would that be? Unless…

“Well it’s obvious, this needs to stop” Strange said, subtly keeping an eye where he saw the shimmer, “I’m going to use everything in my power to stop Mordo, even if it means using this.”

With a small flick of his wrist, the Eye of Agamotto appeared around his neck. Billy’s eyes went wide with concern but he didn’t otherwise say anything. There it was again, the shimmer, and then it was gone. If Strange was right, then his plan was in motion. Wanda still didn’t look at them, but she nodded slightly.

“Good” she said in a quiet voice, “whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it. I will see Mordo stopped, for Vision.”

“I thought so” Strange said.

Billy was throwing him questioning looks, trying to get the man’s attention without saying what he obviously wanted to say. Strange ignored him. Billy seemed to understand that Strange was keeping something from him, hence why he was staying quiet, but Strange didn’t need the looks he was getting. Now, he needed to get back to the Sanctum to set the rest of his plan in motion.

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to stick around for the wake, there are some things I need to attend to back at the Sanctum, but I’m sure Billy will” he said, his look telling Billy that yes he will be staying here, at least for a little bit.

The teen bit back a retort before nodding and agreeing. Before anything else could be said, Strange disappeared through a portal to the familiar halls of the Sanctum. Wong rounded a corner carrying a small pile of books.

“Ah Strange, how was the funeral?” he asked politely.

“About as well as a funeral can be.”

“And how is Wanda?”

“She’s, well, she’s processing” was all Strange could answer as he followed Wong to the library.

“The other Masters have received the news of the Visions death. I would pass on their condolences but I’m not sure it would be well received at the moment” Wong said as he put the books in their rightful places.

Strange didn’t respond, too lost in his thoughts. Honestly, he hadn’t entirely thought this plan through. His silence was not lost on Wong, who shot him a glance as he placed the final book.

“What troubles you Strange?” Wong asked, like he had done so many times before, “is it Mordo?”

“I’m guessing the Masters want to know what’s happening about that” Strange said.

“Of course, but given the … situation, I thought better than to ask for a report to give them.”

“Well, I might have something, but I need information” Strange said.

Wong perked up at that.

“If I’m right, I need to be able to contain Mordo so that he can’t use his magic.”

Wong’s face fell slightly. Strange frowned.

“What is it?”

“The Masters don’t just want to contain him. Given what he intends to do, and given that he would even attack the Avengers, they’ve deemed him enough of a threat to require a more … permanent solution” Wong said.

Wait, they wanted to kill him! Strange could almost understand it. Almost. Mordo certainly needed to be punished, but to kill him! How would that make them better than Mordo? And Strange would not do it. They could cast him out, strip him of his relics and his position in the Sanctum, and he still would not do it. Doctor Strange would not take a life if he could help it. Especially when he once considered the person he was facing a friend. Wong sensed his discomfort.

“I have no more wish than you to see him dead. I shall do what I can but you may not be left with a choice.”

 

It was a short while later, Strange was hurriedly reading through texts. He needed to be prepared, or at least as prepared as he could be. His computer was open on several live news feeds and the radio was also playing, filling the room with a low level of noise. He was distracted in his reading by a bright flash of light. Once it faded, Billy and Wanda were stood in the room. Wanda had changed out of her mourning clothes into her combat gear. Billy hadn’t changed, but he did have his arms crossed tightly and a look of thunder on his face.

“What the hell!” he said, “you cannot be serious.”

“About what?” Strange asked.

“Don’t play games with me!”

“Mordo needs to be stopped” Strange said simply.

“But you cannot be seriously considering using the Time stone. Nobody is worth risking that” Billy said, pointing to the medallion around his neck.

Strange looked up from his book, taking in Billy’s glare. Wanda watched them without saying a word, but he could tell she was taking everything in. With her emotions already pretty fragile, Strange would have to be very careful. He slowly put down the book.

“I’m not going to use the Time stone Billy. Don’t worry” he said calmly.

“What?” Wanda said.

Billy frowned, prompting him to go on.

“Did you think I would use it so casually?” Strange asked.

“Then why did you say it?” Billy asked, still with arms crossed.

“I believe that Mordo was at the funeral…”

“He wasn’t!” Wanda interjected.

“I was about to say, he was watching us from the Astral realm. I only caught a glimpse, but I’m sure it was him” Strange said.

“But then why…” Billy started but Strange cut him off.

“I had to make some kind of grand gesture to draw him out, and this way I’m his target. No one else has to get hurt” he said.

Billy lost his frown, but kept his arms crossed.

“So you’re hoping Mordo will take your bait, and then you can what?” he asked.

“Well with any luck, Wong will have found some way to neutralise his magic without killing him.”

Wanda squinted ever so slightly.

“You don’t want him dead?” she asked.

Now it was Strange that frowned.

“Wanda I…” he started but he was cut off by an alert on his laptop.

A bold headline was flashing at them. Fire at a local diner, it read. Billy joined him at the laptop.

“That’s Mrs Mackintosh’s diner” Billy said.

“Mordo” Strange said, “he took the bait. This is his response, calling out to me.”

“We’re going with you” Billy said.

“You are not” Strange responded.

“Yes we are, you’ve not been able to beat him on your own before” Wanda said.

“Mordo trained you. He knows how you fight” Billy said.

Strange bit back his response. He knew they were right.

“Fine” he conceded, “but we go there to talk first, and your priority, whatever else might happen, is to make sure that civilians are safe. Understand?”

Billy nodded. Wanda looked like she wanted to argue, but she also nodded. Strange didn’t wait for anymore discussions. The diner was on fire, and they needed to make sure it didn’t spread. The portal was opened with one rotation of his hands and they all ran through it, Billy and Strange melting into their combat gear as they went. On the other side, the fire was blazing. They could feel the heat as they approached, but Strange also felt something else. Though the fire burned, it wasn’t out of control. It moved far too deliberately without moving beyond a defined perimeter. Silhouetted against the bright fire, Mordo stood with his back to them. Around them, people were running around, clearly panicked by the blaze. Fire fighters were on the scene, but every time they tried approaching the fires would rear and lash out at them.

“Get them away from the fire!” Strange ordered Billy and Wanda.

They both ran off, calling for the firefighters to leave. Mordo finally turned to face Strange. In the evening light and the brightness of the flames, Strange couldn’t quite make out his face.

“I thought this would draw you out” Mordo said.

“Likewise” Strange said.

Mordo stepped forward and Strange saw his face more clearly. There was anger mixed with confusion painted there.

“You are many things Strange, but an idiot is not one of them” Mordo said.

“You should talk to Christine. She’d beg to differ” Strange said.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wanda directing people away from the diner. The firefighters didn’t seem to want to listen, but when Billy shielded them from a tendril of fire they got the message. Strange gestured to the fire.

“It’s impressive. I’m assuming you’re in complete control of it” Strange commented.

“Of course. It is not my intention to hurt innocents” Mordo said, eyeing Strange wit suspicion.

“Then explain Vision” Strange demanded.

Mordo cast his eyes down slightly. If Strange had to guess, it almost looked like guilt.

“That was unfortunate.”

“If that’s what you call murder, then you really have fallen far” Strange said.

“As have you if you plan on using the Time stone against me.”

Strange scoffed.

“Did you really think I would use it?”

“History says yes” Mordo said, his features hardening.

“I just wanted to talk to you, make you see what you’re doing is wrong” Strange said.

“If that is what you thought would happen, why did you bring your disciples?”

“To make sure nobody interrupts us” Strange said, “please Mordo, this isn’t who you were.”

“What do you expect of me Strange?” Mordo said, “I trusted the Masters, I trusted the Ancient One, and frankly, I trusted you. Every single one of you lied to me, and betrayed every ideal I held. Why should I sit by and allow the Masters to hoard their power to do whatever they please with?”

He jabbed a finger at Strange.

“Even if you weren’t going to use the stone on me, I absolutely do not trust you with it. Until you lose it, you will be a threat, one I intend to stop.”

He gave a decisive swipe and the fire sprang forth, barrelling over Wanda who held it back with a wall of red energy. Strange barely had time to react when Mordo swung his Staff at hi, only just managing to conjure a flimsy shield which shattered on impact.

_Fight. Fight like your life depends on it, because one day it might._

Mordo’s words once again echoed in his head. Perhaps this was the day.

 

The fire was definitely magical, Billy thought. It wasn’t spreading like fire usually did, recalling the fire he’d helped rescue people at with Peter. He and Wanda did their jobs, just as Strange had told them to, getting people to leave the area. A groups of fire fighters inched closer, hoses in hand ready to start spraying, when Wanda dashed in front of them.

“You need to leave the area. Now!” she commanded.

It was difficult to tell through the helmets, but it almost looked they scoffed at her.

“Listen, we don’t care if you’re an Avenger, we have a job to do here.”

“This isn’t normal fire, and this whole situation could escalate quickly” Wanda insisted.

Her eyes glanced briefly over to Strange and Mordo, who surprisingly were still talking. In that moment of distraction, neither Wanda nor the fire fighters were paying attention to the fire. A tendril of fire snaked out like some perverse octopus tentacle, aiming straight for them. Billy flew over, acting on instinct. It was about to hit them, but he stopped it, creating a wall of blue mist that the tendril couldn’t pass thorugh. That seemed to be enough to get the fire fighters moving, and once they’d left the tendril retracted. There were very few stragglers left, one of whom was Mrs Mackintosh, doggedly shepherding other people away. Billy was glad to see her, at least she hadn’t been inside. Billy ran to the last of the fire fighters.

“Make sure nobody comes this way” he told them.

“But what about the fire?” he asked.

“We’ll handle the fire” Billy said, turning back to the blaze.

Movement caught his eye over by Strange. All of a sudden, flames danced out and threatened to overwhelm Wanda.

“Wanda!” he cried out, but she had already reacted, shielding herself from it.

There was a sound almost like glass breaking, and Billy saw Mordo retracting the Staff of the Living Tribunal. So much for talking. Billy tried running forward but more fire sprung forth, dancing around them. Billy blasted it with waves of energy, forcing them back within the shell of the diner. Wanda caught on what he was trying to do and helped him.

“We need to put out the fire!” she yelled over the blaze.

Over the din of noise, Billy could hear the tell-tale buzz of Mordo staff as well as the sound of its impacts against shields. He didn’t look, but instinct told him that Strange was putting up a good fight. The fire was ferocious. It pushed back against their wall of energy, crashing against it like a wave against a pier. Flames were thrown up high but their wall wasn’t high enough. It fell on them and they only just jumped out of its way. Strange had conjured a sword of deep orange energy, fighting hand to hand with Mordo and his staff, the Cloak of Levitation and the mobility it provided countering Mordo’s skill and experience.

“Up above, a helicopter!” Wanda shouted.

Sure enough, he heard the thud of rotor blades. He took off flying, trying to get close to the helicopter but the down draft held him back. Tendrils of fire lashed out, slowed slightly by the fore of the helicopter, but advancing all the same.

“ **Blast it with water**!” he chanter.

Jets of water shot from the shimmering energy enveloping his hands. It stopped the fire, but did little else. Damn it Billy, think! Mordo enchanted the fire to control it, but it’s still just fire. What does fire need? Fuel, oxygen and heat. It’s got plenty of fuel, oxygen’s in the air, but heat? They could take the heat, but how? Water could do that, it’d quench the oxygen as well, but this fire was already burning too hot for the water to make much impact. So if they could make the water colder, and higher pressure to get further into the blaze, that’s it! He dropped to the ground. Mordo was vaulting about, sending out blasts of magic to counter Strange’s offensive. Wanda had joined him, the air was being twisted and pulled into a strong gale as she tried to keep Mordo on the ground. Billy needed water, and he needed it cold and high pressured.

“Hook up that hose now!”

Those firefighters sure were stubborn. They’d crept forward, busily hooking up hoses. He ran forward.

“Get out of the way kid!” the chief yelled at him.

“Listen, I need your help” Billy said.

It was like he could feel the eyes of the fire watching him, waiting to see what he was up to. It wouldn’t be long before it lost interest in him and started attacking Strange and Wanda, or worse the fire fighters.

“Look kid, we’re here to do our jobs. Now get out of the way and stop interfering with your freaky light shows” the chief said, his voice rough with anger and determination.

A great burst of light seemed to punctuate his point and the chief swept past Billy with a strong arm.

“Get him out of here!” he ordered.

Before any of the other firefighters could grab him, Billy ran forward again. He smashed his palms together, concentrating intensely on everything Strange had taught him. He quickly motioned his arms and the glyph took shape in front of him, standing blue against the white orange fire. He thrust it forward and glyph grew, floating in front of the hoses like a shimmering gateway. He could feel the cold from where he stood and just hoped it would be enough. The firefighters hesitated and didn’t start spraying. Billy didn’t have time.

“Do your jobs!” he yelled.

The fire chief snapped out of it, ordering the others to begin. Water shot out of the three hoses and were caught in the glyph.

“What the hell?” the chief screamed at him, but Billy ignored him.

The fire shot out at the glyph, it, or more likely Mordo, sensing what was coming. Billy pushed out and the water blasted out of the glyph, so cold he almost shivered where he stood and at such high pressure he could practically feel it. It collided with the fire, filling the street with a loud hissing. The two held against each other. Billy narrowed the glyph, thus narrowing the stream of water. Like a surgeon’s scalpel, the thinner stream cut through the fire, cutting straight through to the heart of the fire, extinguishing the blast. The fire swirled, concentrating in the shell of the diner as if it was trying to marshal itself. Billy reached out with his magic, keeping part of the water safe in the heart of the blaze.

“ **Keep it cold** ” he chanted, “ **keep it cold**.”

Strange’s fight with Mordo came to a lull from the hissing steam, and Mordo’s attention fell on Billy.

“No” he said.

Billy paid him no mind.

“ **Build it up**. **Build it up**.”

The magic built up, both between Billy’s hands and in the heart of the fire. He saw Mordo swipe a hand. The fire lurched outward, cascading toward him. Billy couldn’t move, nor break his concentration. He closed his eyes from the bright light.

“ **And release**!”

The magic in his hand released in a powerful shockwave, only matched by the shockwave from the heart of the fire. The freezing water exploded, overcoming all of the fire and extinguishing it. The sudden rush of steam flooded over him, but to his surprise he didn’t feel the heat. Opening his eyes, Wanda was stood over him, shielding him from the rapidly diluting steam. Heavy footsteps approaching them and Billy saw the fire chief running up to him.

“You’ll put us out of a job kid” the chief said.

“Look out!” Strange yelled.

Buzzing filled the air, but Billy could get a shield up in time and the Staff hit him hard in the shoulder. With a yelp of pain, Billy collapsed into the fire chief.

“Kid!”

“No!”

There was a harsh scraping noise. Billy looked up to see a fire truck, wreathed in thin tendrils of deep red mist, being dragged across the ground. It was picked up and thrown, entirely too close for comfort.

“Get down!” Billy said, pushing the fire chief over.

The truck sailed over them, directly at Mordo who vaulted over it. He couldn’t see, but he guessed Wanda’s eyes were ablaze as she charged towards Mordo.

“Get out of here” he told the fire chief before running to join her.

Mordo was waiting for them. Wanda sent blast after blast of energy at him, but Mordo knocked them aside. From behind him, Strange created coils of magic. They lashed out, trying to snare Mordo but he dodged. He slammed his palms into the ground. Arcs of lightning spread through the concrete towards Strange.

“ **Get him away**!” Billy chanted.

Strange was gone in a burst of light before the lightning could reach him, appearing over their heads. A shining glyph was in his hand, ready to slam into Mordo. Mordo brought up a shield to meet it. The two magics collided, sending out a powerful shockwave. Billy stumbled slightly but Wanda held her ground. Her blast of magic finally hit Mordo but he was quick to recover. On his feet facing the three, his face was a picture of anger. In the small moment of peace, Billy tried to catch his breath. That last teleportation had taken a lot out of him, but he couldn’t back down. Strange was bleeding from a cut to his forehead but was otherwise fine. Magic was streaming from Wanda almost like fire. Mordo brandished the Staff, cutting deep gouges into the concrete of the road, goading them forward. Strange charged forward, conjuring a sword. He caught Mordo’s Staff as Billy charged as well. Mordo whipped the Staff around, but Billy slid under it, blasting Mordo with bright blue magic. It would have hit had Mordo not vaulted away. Wanda was lying in wait for that. Mordo could only get two vaults away before she ripped him from the air. He hit the ground hard but otherwise held his ground. Wanda surged forward, the magic like a tidal wave threatening to overwhelm everything.

“Strange” Billy heard a new voice say.

Wong appeared through a portal, just as Mordo redirected Wanda’s fire like magic towards a nearby building. Billy didn’t need Strange’s instruction. He flew forward, placing himself between the building and the magic and shielding it with the same blue mist he’d used before. The red magic collided with the blue and Billy felt the pressure, but the shield held. Faces were pressed against the glass windows of the building, bystanders eagerly watching the fight with a perverse awe. Billy couldn’t take more than two steps forward when Mordo blasted a beam of energy at Wanda. She easily conjured a shield to deflect it, but it deflected straight at Billy. His own shield was more hasty and the beam pushed him backwards. Wanda hadn’t even noticed, too focussed as she was on Mordo. He angled his shield and the beam deflected off it, directly at Mordo. He vaulted away, but Wanda struck again, ripping him out of the air and slamming him into the ground. He bounced straight back again and continued fighting.

“Wanda!” Billy called but she didn’t hear him as she chased down Mordo.

“She’s not just fighting, she’s getting revenge” Strange said, appearing at his side.

“We need to do something” Billy said, trying to rack his brain.

“Here” Strange said, shoving an odd cuff of metal into his hand.

“Get that around Mordo’s wrist” Strange instructed him.

“How?”

Strange gestured to Wanda.

“She can hold him still long enough for us to get them on, but we need to hurry.”

His Cloak fluttered open and he flew forward towards the battle. Wanda sent a wave of magic along the ground but Mordo easily dodged by vaulting. As soon as he was in the air, Wanda slammed him down again. That’s the third time that’s happened, why hasn’t he realised it won’t work, Billy thought. Wanda overstepped and Mordo caught her with the Staff, knocking her back. Strange caught her. 

“I was right about you Ms Maximoff. Be it in grief or madness it doesn’t matter, you are dangerous. I’m sorry that Vision had to die, but seeing you now, I was right to try and stop you” Mordo said.

Billy felt a cold surge, the pure anger emanating from Wanda at Mordo’s words was chilling. The blast of magic she launched at him reverberating through the air, threatening to break all of the surrounding windows. Mordo easily vaulted away but Wanda slammed him once again into the ground. Mordo grunted with pain and Strange ran forward, easily closing the short distance. He grabbed Mordo’s wrist and placed his cuff. Mordo’s eyes went wide and he blasted Strange away. He vaulted high to slam down on him with the Staff but Wanda, once again, slammed him into the ground. The Staff flew from his hands as he struggled to get to his feet. He blasted back at Wanda, and conjured a blade of energy, swinging it wildly at Strange.

“No!” Mordo screamed.

Strange raised his hands in defence and Wanda called his name, but the blow never landed. The blade shattered into sparks, fading before they even reached the floor. Mordo stared wide eyed at Billy, the second cuff on his other wrist that Billy managed to catch in his wild swing. Time stood still for a few short heartbeats, when Mordo came back to his senses. He wrenched his arm, throwing Billy to the floor, but that was all he could do. Thin tendrils of red mist webbed over his body and he froze. Modo was forced to his knees as Wanda approached. Mordo tried fighting it, but her grip was too strong. Strange helped Billy back to his feet. He clutched his shoulder. 

“I’m good” he said to the doctor.

“What happens now?” Wanda asked.

Her eyes burned with fury. Mordo, to his credit, stared them down, not betraying an inch of fear.

“He can’t use his magic now, the cuffs stop that. We need to lock him up somewhere so he can’t hurt anyone else” Strange said.

Wanda continued glaring at Mordo.

“No” she said quietly.

“No?”

“I don’t just want him locked up” she said.

Mordo grimaced, choking slightly. Billy could see the tendrils of magic tightening.

“Wanda, stop” Strange commanded.

“Stop what?”

“Stop that!” Strange said, pointing to Mordo.

Wanda blinked, shaking her head slightly, and the tendrils loosened, still holding him in place but no longer hurting him. Wanda turned her gaze to Strange.

“But why? How many people’s lives has he ruined? How many would he destroy if he ever got out?”

“Too many, and you worst of all, but we are better than that Wanda. We’re better than him” Strange said.

“We’re on the side of life, remember” Billy said.

Tears shone in Wanda’s bright red eyes, but Billy hoped that being reminded of Vision would snap her out of whatever rage she was in. He held his breath for a second and Wanda relented, turning her backs on the three of them. Repulsors whined through the air as a Quinjet swooped overhead and Iron Man and War Machine landed next to them. Rhodey immediately levelled his repulsors at Mordo, and Tony’s helmet peeled back.

“What happened here?” he asked.

Strange simply shrugged. Wanda started walking away.

“Hey, Cap’s on his way. He wants to talk to you” Tony said.

“Let her go Tony” Strange said, shaking his head at the man, before gesturing to Billy, “go with her.”

Billy nodded and walked slowly after the woman, careful to give her some space. The streets bore the marks of the battle Deep gouges and cracks in the road crisscrossed all over the place. The diner was completely burnt out. Cars were tipped over and the fire truck Wanda had thrown lay on its top, one side scraped and buckled. All of this to stop one person. Billy sighed as he caught up to Wanda. He thought catching Mordo would feel more like victory, but instead it just felt like a happy accident.

 

Mordo’s arms were bound with actual handcuffs, as well as the magic cuffs, so Strange could breathe a bit easier. Not that Mordo seemed to have any inclination to move. He didn’t look defeated per se, but he was smart enough to know when he was beaten. Standing before the burnt out shell of Mrs Mackintosh’s diner, he expected to feel relief. The fight was over, but it didn’t feel over, not like it had with Kaecilius. Captain America was leading Mordo onto the Quinjet. His hands ached, like they always did after a fight. This felt like it was only the beginning, like a storm was brewing, threatening to overwhelm them all. He was distracted from his thoughts by Tony. The Iron Man suit had melted back into its housing unit.

“The fire really did a number here” he commented.

It sure did, Strange thought. Maybe Billy could repair it, put it back to how it was. Mrs Mackintosh deserved that. It was his fault after all that Mordo had burned it down.

“I’ll cover the cost of repairs, seems like a shame what happened to it” Tony said in his usual off hand manner.

He turned to face Strange properly and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“The others’ll probably have politer ways to say this but whatever, you got the bastard.”

That they had, Strange thought.

“All’s set on the jet” Rhodes said, “we’re just waiting on you doctor.”

“Waiting on me?”

“We figured you’d have something in mind for him, like a magical prison or something.”

Strange sighed and followed Rhodes to the jet. He never liked these things. He wasn’t exactly claustrophobic, but he felt the jets were always just a bit too enclosed, especially when there were lots of people in them, like now. Mordo was kept off to one side, cuffed to a chair. Steve looked up expectantly at Strange.

“We’ve got him” he said.

“Yes we do” Strange replied.

“Do your people have some kind of magical prison we could put him in?”

“No. I mean they do, but they wouldn’t. They’d just kill him.”

The Avengers looked between each other.

“Ok, well what about the Sanctum? Surely there’s somewhere there than can…”

“Look Captain, by not killing him I’m already pushing my luck with the Masters. If I keep him at the Sanctum, they’d find him.”

There was silence for a moment.

“Then what do we do? He can’t exactly go to any random prison” Rhodes said.

Strange thought for a moment.

“Contact Wakanda. I’m sure they’d love to take him” Strange said.

The Avengers agreed. Tony looked like he wanted to talk to Strange, but he ignored him, walking slowly over to Mordo. Mordo looked practically calm. His hands were scraped from the road, and Strange was sure there were other bruises, but he didn’t show any pain that was present. Strange stood before him and Mordo slowly looked up. There was no hint of intimidation.

“Doctor Strange” he said calmly.

“Mordo.”

“So you’ve done it. You’ve caught me.”

“There will be consequences for what you’ve done Mordo, but I’m not just going to let you get killed.”

“So I heard. As if Wakanda will treat me any better.”

“You’ll be alive.”

Mordo laughed.

“Being alive is no currency Strange, but you’ll find out soon enough.”

“What do you mean?”

Mordo smiled but said nothing. Anger pulsed through his veins. Mordo was toying with him. He was close to asking again when Steve interrupted.

“We heard back from T’Challa. He says they’ll graciously accept.”

“Fine, then we’re going” Strange said, pulling Mordo to his feet.

“Strange what’re you…” Steve asked.

Strange opened a portal to Wakanda. Mordo’s words had put him on edge and he wold feel a lot more at ease with him in a cell. Ignoring the comments from the Avengers, he pulled Mordo through with him. The heat of Wakanda almost smacked him in the face as several spears were levelled at him.

“Stand down, he’s a friend” T’Challa said, walking in front of the spears.

With a call, the Dora Milaje stood down as one. T’Challa shook Strange’s hand, eyeing Mordo with disdain.

“Believe me when I say he will face justice for his crimes” T’Challa said.

“With respect your highness, I want to be sure he’s secure before I leave” Strange said.

“Of course.”

T’Challa motioned to one of his guards and two stepped forward. They each took one of Mordo’s arms and led him away, with Strange and T’Challa following.

“The severity of his crimes would normally lead to execution here, but Captain Rogers indicated your preference that he remain alive” T’Challa commented.

Strange sighed.

“He was my friend. I owe him this much” he said.

“I feel like there is more to it than that.”

Strange considered for a moment.

“Something Mordo said. I can’t help but think there’s more going on here” Strange said.

It was a short trip to the prison, but Strange kept his focus on Mordo. The ma didn’t seem fazed to be in Wakanda, nor to be in chains. It was unsettling. The cell they placed him in was unfurnished with no windows and lit only by a single light in the ceiling. The guards placed him on the ground and bound his arms in chains. They must have learned enough about how magic works, Strange thought.

“Might I have a moment alone?” Strange asked.

T’Challa nodded, and he and the guards left.

“What did you mean ‘I’ll know soon enough’?”

Mordo looked up at him, relishing in keeping the knowledge secret.

“It’s coming for you Strange. Doom is approaching, all because you decided to train her.”

Strange felt cold. What on earth did that mean? Mordo shook his head at Strange’s reaction.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m sure we’ll find out.”

Strange stormed out of the cell and the door slid shut, leaving only a small slit to look through. T’Challa and his guards were walking a short way in front of him as he fell in step behind them.

“I can assure you doctor, we will maintain a vigilant watch over this prisoner. He will not escape on our watch” T’Challa said.

“Thank you.”

A comfortable silence fell over them as they walked back to the palace.

“Would you mind if I questioned him more at some point?” Strange asked, “there’s something I want to …”

He couldn’t finish his question. One of the Dora Milaje looked over her shoulder and nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw him. Calling something in Wakandan, the guards all turned and levelled their spears at him. Strange backed up, holding his hands up.

“Woah, woah, it’s me” he said.

T’Challa fixed him with a hard gaze, his black panther suit melting over his body but leaving his head clear.

“Who are you? How did you get into Wakanda?” he demanded of Strange.

What’s going on, Strange thought.

“Your highness, it’s me. Doctor Strange” he said, hoping to placate things.

The spears didn’t shift an inch. T’Challa’s expression didn’t change.

“I do not know who you are!” he said, “no answer me!”

Strange didn’t move either. Whatever was going on had made this situation delicate. He didn’t know much about Wakanda, but he did know they didn’t take kindly to intruders. He would have to be careful.

Then he blinked.

And T’Challa and his guards were gone. Strange startled. What the hell? The air felt different, like it was charged. Something was definitely wrong. He needed to get back to the Sanctum to find out what was happening. Was Earth being invaded by a being from the Multiverse? A bright light on the horizon caught his eye. No, that can’t be. That’s reality being changed. As quick as he could, he started performing a spell. If his memory was correct, and it always was, then it should protect his mind. But the light was advancing too quickly. He couldn’t finish his spell, and the light swept over him, leaving nothing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge apologies for the gap between updates. Uni got really busy at the end of semester, then between coming home for Christmas, Christmas and New Years, I couldn't find the time to write. The length of the chapter certainly didn't help. So here it is, think of it as a very late Christmas present and slightly late New Year present from me.
> 
> As always, if you have any feedback on this chapter, or any others, please let me know.
> 
> We're moving into the second part of the story now. Thank you for those who have read this far.


	9. An Ordinary Life

Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.

The sound of the alarm clock dragged through his consciousness like sandpaper. Eventually, he woke up, reaching blearily over to the bedside table and nearly smashed the stop button. Stephen didn’t usually sleep so deeply, or find such irritation in his alarm, but for whatever reason he had this morning. The sun filtered through a small gap in the curtains, illuminating the bedroom with a pale glow. Come on Stephen, wake up. He was half tempted to slap himself, but that would be ridiculous. His body felt like such a dead weight as he dragged himself from his bed .He didn’t feel quite right, maybe coffee would help, or a calming herbal tea. He passed out of the room, out into his spacious apartment. The open plan space laid everything to bare. One corner of the large room was dominated by floor to ceiling windows, allowing him a commanding view of the city outside. The kitchen was tucked away across the floor, near the front door. The cool tiles beneath his feet served to wake him up more, and the uneasy feeling he’d woken up with slowly worked its way out. He might not even need that coffee. Maybe this is what people referred to as a case of the Mondays. He completed his morning rituals, and before he knew it he was driving to work. Metro General Hospital seemed to loom out of the early morning mist. He paid it no mind as he pulled into his space. His schedule wasn’t too onerous today, mainly preparations for his conference tomorrow. The front door opened with a swish, the receptionist greeted him with a cheery smile. It was early enough in the morning that the hospital was fairly quiet, or at least this part of it was. The door to his office opened and George from the post room stepped out.

“Ah Dr Strange. Your journal arrived” he said politely.

“Thank you George” he replied, just as politely.

The man stepped aside and Stephen entered the room. The office was only subtly decorated. Christine had told him on quite a few occasions that he was showing off when he displayed his possessions, given how he could wax poetic about each and every one of them. Patients would feel more at ease discussing things with you, she’d said. He’d taken her advice, but true to form he’d gone the distance. As subtle as the decorations were, they were all precisely picked and placed. The book shelf was teaming with books on neuroscience and related fields. The filing cabinets were mostly full as well, front and centre being the one containing copies of his own papers. On the wall beside his desk, which of course was clear of clutter, was a painting of ocean waves. He couldn’t quite place the reason, but the waves were calming to him. Just as George had said, on the desk was a medical journal wrapped in clear plastic. He opened it and flicked idly through it. According to Christine, there was an article which he’d find interesting. About halfway through, his own name jumped out at him. Applications of the Palmer-Strange technique to patients with upper extremity nerve damage, the title read. Interesting, he thought. He looked up at the clock. 8:30am. He still had to finish preparing for his presentation, but this paper might make an intriguing addition. With the paper slung under his arm, Stephen left the office, meandering his way to the staff lounge. It was still early and the lounge wasn’t busy, only a couple of doctors waiting for the coffee machine to finish. The TV was on, providing a low level ambient noise as the news played. He didn’t pay it much mind as he flicked open the journal to article. Time crept by and the next thing he knew he’d filled an entire page of his notepad with bits and pieces from the article. It wasn’t bad, as articles went.

“Our other top story this morning. It is the fourth day of negotiations in the Eastern European country of Latveria over allegations of human rights abuses by the country’s leadership.”

The news report caught his attention as he was rereading the article. The odd comment jumped out. Aggressive overtures. Isolationist policies. Uncooperative with human rights charities. Stephen saw movement out of the corner of his eye and looked up to see Jane from paediatrics tutting at the screen.

“It’s a shame. A darn shame” she said before the coffee machine pinged, signalling a fresh batch.

It was a shame, Stephen thought, now that his attention was on the report.

“According to reports from the Wakandan mediators, they are hopeful that a resolution will present itself but that it will still take time. We go now to a statement made by noted anti war activist, former US army captain Steve Rogers in Washington DC.”

The screen changed to a recording of an elderly man standing behind a podium. The man had all vestiges of incredible strength in his youth. The muscles had faded, and his back was slightly stooped now, but the strength was still there in the centenarians voice.

“The people of Latveria deserve the right to interact with the global community if they so wish, just as everyone else does. That the Latverian government sees those refugees from their lands as traitors and not a lesson to be learned, and to respond to the concerns of others with hostility, is truly chilling. I beg for the King of Latveria to heed the call of peace.”

Quite the speech, he thought, almost smiling at the familiarity. He check his watch and did a double take. It was nearly ten. He gathered his things and left the lounge, ignoring the rest of the story on Latveria. He got back to his office a few minutes before ten. The article and notepad were roughly shoved into one of his desk drawers and he winced at the thought of needing to clean that up later. The thought was pushed aside as the clock ticked by. His patient would be here soon. A brown file was on his desk under where the journal had been. The patient file, he thought. He only had the chance for a quick glance through when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

The door opened tentatively and in walked a nervous looking man. His hair was messed up, like he’d been dragging his hands through it in his nerves. Stephen smiled, hoping to put him at ease as he stood and offered his hand. Patients were easier to deal with this way.

“You must be Bruce Banner. I’m Dr Stephen Strange” he introduced himself.

Banner shook the offered hand and sat in the offered chair.

“I was expecting to see Dr Cameron” the man said, his voice steady despite the outward display of nerves.

“I’m afraid Dr Cameron was called away urgently so her case load has been given to other doctors” Stephen said, not unkindly.

“I see” Banner said, his tone neutral.

Stephen glanced back to the file.

“I understand that you have a background in biochemistry” he commented.

Banner frowned.

“Yes. What of it?”

“It means I can talk more plainly with you Dr Banner” Stephen said, returning to the file, “you had a tumour in your brain which put pressure on your amygdala, resulting in seemingly random extreme responses to emotions like anger.”

He read off the details with a practised detachment, watching the small wince as he mentioned the anger. Damn, he thought, this did sound rough.

“You’re scheduled for an MRI later today. I’m sure I don’t need to explain to you how that works” he said.

“No” Banner chuckled lightly, “Dr Cameron already did that.”

Nerves started creeping over his face again.

“This is just a check up Dr Banner. According to your records, you’ve responded very well to treatment so far” Stephen said.

Banner smiled weakly. Strange stood.

“Let’s get you checked in. From experience, the waiting is the worst part.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

They left the office and Banner was checked in. He still seemed nervous but he talked to the nurses calmly enough. Stephen left him as he was being led to his bed. Heading back to his office, his mind was full of thoughts on his presentation, occasionally thinking about how much it would suck to have random bouts of anger, when all of a sudden a small blue bundle slammed into him as he rounded a corner.

 

Thankfully both Stephen and the blue bundle weren’t so far inside their own heads that the collision didn’t send them both sprawling to the floor. The blue bundle was his frie-colleague Christine Palmer. She was dressed in her surgeon scrubs but it was like she’d been running.

“Training for the marathon, Christine?” Stephen asked lightheartedly.

If the glare he received was any indication, she was not in a joking mood.

“I need you” she said.

Oh how much he wanted to make a rude comment, but her whole demeanour was telling him that it wouldn’t be appreciated.

“For what?”

“We’ve had someone come in with severe damage to his arms from a car crash. My neurosurgeon on call is on sabbatical and there’s nobody else in this hospital that I trust to operate on someone this severe” she rattled off as the pair of them strode down the corridors.

When they’d started walking and when Stephen started following, he couldn’t remember.

“If you don’t do something, he could lose all use of his hands and possibly his arms as well.”

People parted in the corridors as they passed, obviously sensing the importance as they practically ran to the theatre. The nurses made no comment as Stephen and Christine scrubbed up. As the water ran over his hands in the practised motions, Stephen concentrated on his mantra, the one he’d developed in med school to get his head into the correct zone for surgery. It wasn’t much, listing the areas of the brain while his body went on autopilot. The gentle change of temperature as the cold water ran over his hands soothed out any nerves, as he went through his list. Cerebrum. Thalamus. Hypothalamus. Tectum. Tegmentum. Cerebellum. Pons. Medulla. He went through his list two or three times, each time feeling the ebb and flow of the cold water. Forebrain, midbrain, hindbrain. The water was shut off and the nurses helped him into his scrubs. The slight snap of the gloves as he pulled them on brought him out of his listing. With a final snap, the gloves were in place. His hands held up in front of him, completely still his entire focus was on the surgery and he stepped into the theatre. The sight before him was almost enough to break his focus. Almost. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before, but there was something off about it. The thought quickly passed and he stepped forward. The man was a mess, his arms a patchwork of lacerations and breaks. Christine said this happened in a car crash. He probably took the worst of the impact on his arms, he thought.

“We need to maintain blood flow throughout so nothing dies. The bones need setting without trapping any nerves. Where nerves are severed, they need reattaching. Dr Palmer start on the left, I’ll be on the right. We need constant communication but keep it to the point” he instructed.

So they began. The arms were like a puzzle, one the he needed to put back together, but try as he might he couldn’t help but feel a bizarre sense of familiarity. Thankfully, between the concentration needed to repair the damage and the multitasking to direct his fellow doctors, any other thoughts were pushed aside. All there was was the surgery. The whole world may as well have ceased to exist for all he cared. After three hours, Christine called him over. As brilliant as she was, she wasn’t Stephen, so they swapped arms. In total, the surgery lasted seven hours. Christine smiled beneath her mask.

“Thank you” she said as they washed their hands.

“You’re quite welcome Dr Palmer” he said, trying to maintain his aloofness, “my record for successful surgery remains untarnished.”

“He hasn’t woken up yet” she pointed out.

“And if he doesn’t, that’s on you as the surgeon in charge.”

“You ran the surgery!”

“As a favour to you, it was your call. Still on you” Stephen teased.

“Stephen” Christine said exasperated.

“Be glad of my perfect record now” he said.

“Thank you Stephen” she said, giving him a playful shove.

Stephen turned away heading back to his office. It was late in the day, everything else he had planned to do was thrown out of the window. God, he still needed to finish preparing for tomorrow. The sun was on its way down, the afternoon moving slowly into early evening. He always liked this time of the day because everything was bathed in a warm orange glow. Despite not getting through his to-do list, it had been a productive day nonetheless, and for all his teasing with Christine, he was happy the surgery had been successful. At a guess, that man would have upwards of 90% usage of his hands, and he had no reason to believe that that wouldn’t increase to 100% with more healing time and physiotherapy. That surgery. Why was it still on his mind? He’d operated more times than he could count, and they didn’t stick out like this one did. This one felt familiar, but there was no reason it should. He didn’t know the man, car crash victims weren’t especially rare in the ER, and it wasn’t entirely unheard of for Christine to call on him as a consult. He was the best neurosurgeon in the hospital after all. Stephen. So what was it? Was it the techniques he used? No, those were fairly standard, if expertly applied to their fullest extent by an experienced surgeon. Stephen! Was it something else, something entirely unrelated to the surgery itself? Maybe his thoughts on the presentation had brought hands-on neurosurgery to the forefront of his brain so anything taking place in an operating theatre would seem weirdly familiar. Yeah, that must be it.

“Stephen!”

He startled in his chair. Christine was sat opposite him, looking at him with an air of amusement.

“Earth to Stephen Strange. You in there?”

“Dammit Christine, I’m a doctor not an astronaut.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Of all the shows I thought you’d watch, I never thought you’d watch Star Trek” she said.

“Kind of hard not to. I mean we’ve had what? Seven shows and 13 movies” Stephen commented.

“You seemed pretty out of it” Christine said, letting the conversation drop, “penny for your thoughts?”

Strange frowned slightly. He couldn’t tell Christine about the weird feeling. She’d take it in completely the wrong way for what was a weird cognitive quirk.

“Just thinking about my presentation tomorrow” he lied.

He plastered on a smile.

“Fancy joining me?”

Christine smiled and shook her head.

“I don’t think your ego needs me to inflate it anymore” she said, teasing, “besides, I’m covering an overnight that night so I’ll need the rest.”

“Fair enough.”

“I can, however, hear what you plan on talking about. You need someone to keep you right about our technique” Christine said, a warm smile on her face.

Stephen smiled as well. As he talked through his presentation with Christine, all thoughts about familiar surgery were forgotten.

 

The drive home was uneventful, though he only realised after it was far too late to stop it that his briefcase had come loose in the trunk and was bouncing around with every turn of the car. Thankfully, x-rays were sturdy things, or at least the results of them were, not liable to lose meaning from a rough car ride. Sure enough, when he reached his apartment, the images were just as crisp and clear as they had been when he’d first been given them. With the coffee maker on, Stephen lounged on his sofa, looking over the x-rays. Bruce Banner was a lucky man. Most people would have been in a much worse position if exposed to that much radiation. Thankfully, if you could call it that, he’d only come away with a tumour. While the bouts of anger hadn’t been pleasant, for him or anyone else, they’d actually managed to twig everyone else off that something was wrong with the usually mild mannered scientist. By the looks of the scans, everything seemed to be fine. Oncology reported that he responded well to the treatments, and as Stephen’s well trained eye passed over the detailed scans of the man’s brain, he couldn’t find any trace of cancer or any damage to the nerves of the brain. It was the kind of success that oncologists wished they could have everyday. Bing! The coffee maker sounded, and Stephen switched the TV on, hoping for background noise more than anything. The news usually helped with that, if you could stand bad news. Stephen was a doctor, so he definitely could.

“In other top stories: Stark Industries have announced the results of their initial trials of genetically modified crops in Africa. The technology company has been working for the last six months to produce variations of common crop species to allow them to grow in a range of harsh environments. According to the Stark Industries spokesperson, the company has been having success.”

The screen cut to a press release. All cameras were pointed at a short woman stood at a podium.

“There are still people in this world who struggle to find enough to feed themselves and their families. Food shortage is a tale as old as time, but in this time, we have access to what our ancestors did not. These trials represent the innovation Stark Industries has been having in the field of genetic modification. It is Mr Stark’s dream, just as much as it is everyone else’s, to make the world a better place. This, we hope, is the next step to that goal.”

Stephen tuned out the rest of the broadcast, allowing it to fade into the background as he’d originally intended. Tony Stark. Every interview he’d seen of the man, he always seemed to project an aura of extreme arrogance. To be sure, he’d been like that in person. High and mighty, the most important person in the room, but Stephen had been pleased to find that there was a heart to match that ego underneath it all. A heart that was determined to carry the weight of the whole world. Of course he’d want to feed everyone. Stephen shook his head at the thought, looking once more over the MRI scans. It was always a nice feeling to know that, no matter what else happened the next day, he’d be able to give some good news. Tomorrow arrived, and Stephen was able to wake and go through his morning routine much easier than he had done the previous day. Despite his vast experience as a doctor, and all of the research he’s done in that time, if you’d asked him why human beings sometimes just felt … bad, he couldn’t answer that. The hospital didn’t look like it had yesterday, but the receptionist greeted him just as warmly. There was no George coming out of his office dropping off mail. He must have left the journal at work, he thought, seeing the glossy front cover gleaming at him under the lights. Maybe there was something else in there he could use for his presentation. It was still early. Dr Banner wasn’t due to meet about his scans till the next day and he didn’t have anything else pressing on his schedule. With journal in hand, he wound his was through the corridors to the staff lounge. Like yesterday, there weren’t too many people there. Only there was – ugh! Jocelyn Lester, an otherwise brilliant radiologist, but one who was prone to gossip, and who had the annoying habit of wanting everyone’s opinion on matters she deemed important. The other doctors were talking to her, maybe she wouldn’t notice him. That was his hope as he sat down, as far away from the small group by the coffee machine as he could. The news was on, playing a recap of events from yesterday. Currently it was something unimportant, the messy divorce between vacuous reality TV stars. The conversation drifted over from the other side of the room.

“But surely they wouldn’t be able to do anything. I mean, it’s not like they’ve had any contact with anyone for decades.”

“Doesn’t mean they can’t, or won’t, fight.”

“But come on, they’ve got the weight of the world breathing down their necks. They wouldn’t last.”

“And people thought Wakanda was a nation of farmers and shepherds, but look at them now. Just because they’re isolationist doesn’t mean they’re primitive.”

“Wakanda has vibranium though. What evidence do we have that Latveria is anything like that?”

Ah, the Latveria crisis. It was every world affairs journalists field day, as morbid as that thought was. Stephen wasn’t really an international politics kind of guy. But of course, Dr Lester was going to…

“Stephen, settle this for us. Surely we shouldn’t be so worried?” Dr Lester said, calling across the room to him, “I mean, Latveria can’t really threaten us.”

“I’m telling you, we can’t just assume that. The Latverian refugees have said that Latveria shouldn’t be trifled with” one of the other doctors said.

Dr Lester shushed him.

“What do you think?”

All eyes turned to Stephen. He sighed.

“i wouldn’t be worried. It’s all tough rhetoric meant to intimidate. Even if they could fight, it’s not like they have an allies so they’d be fools to do so” he said, hoping to end the conversation.

Dr Lester looked triumphant, beaming at Stephen like he was her new best friend. He rolled his eyes, returning to the journal. There wasn’t anything else relevant to his presentation, but it was all interesting. A bio-engineer from Wakanda had presented a method for developing Wakandan-esque technology using more available resources. That would be groundbreaking if it could be made to work. More conversation drifted over, a different topic, but he didn’t want to listen in. He needed to get back to his office and finalise his speaking notes.

“I’ll be honest, I love what Stark is doing. People need feeding and if they struggle to grow food in those areas then why not develop GM food?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I’d want to eat genetically modified food. Who knows what they put in it?” Dr Lester said.

“Stark Industries are very transparent about their processes, so that shouldn’t worry you.”

“Stephen?”

Oh god, why didn’t he just stay in his office? He rolled his eyes.

“Your thoughts?” Dr Lester asked.

“I don’t really care what Stark’s doing. I’m just glad he’s not making weapons anymore” he said, not even looking up from his notes.

He expected the conversation to continue without him, hoping that his terse tone would ward off any future invitation to comment. Therefore, he was somewhat taken aback at the silence that followed. The other doctors who had been talking were all looking at him with brows furrowed, or else showing confusion some other way. Stephen slowly met their gazes, keeping his face a mask. What was the problem here? Surely his position wasn’t too controversial?

“Stephen” Dr Lester said carefully, “Tony Stark never made weapons.”

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“What?”

“Stark Industries hasn’t made weapons since the sixties. They were called cowards since this was during the Cold War and everyone was expecting the Russians to attack.”

Stephen thought hard. Of course Stark hadn’t made weapons in decades. Hell, Tony Stark had never lived in a time when they did. He’d been to the business events where all the companies gave the usual spiel about how great they are, he’d heard this all from some spokesperson. He shook his head. Why would he think otherwise? There had been other companies at those events. Some of those must have been weapons manufacturers. Hammer Industries sprang to mind. That must be it, he must have confused the two while he was focused on his presentation.

“What is it you guys always say? I can’t always be perfect. Apparently the difference between Fortune 500 companies is my limit” he said, hoping his light tone would break the ice.

It was a success, as he heard some light chuckles from the others in the room. Before they could draw him into yet another debate, he left the lounge, retreating to the safety of his office. His notes were complete, his presentation fully formed on his head, now all he needed to do was give it. Awkward lounge conversations aside, he was fully focused. After all, though his name may be Strange, it wouldn’t do to dwell on strangeness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the incredible delay between updates. Uni got ahead of me a bit so I couldn't focus as much on this. Thank you for your patience.
> 
> Please, if you have any feedback, let me know.


	10. Little Things

"So in summary, we are already seeing encouraging results in applying the Palmer-Strange technique to a variety of neurological conditions. In fact, just the other day I was reading a paper by Dr Franklyn of the Royal General Infirmary in the UK about applications of the technique to patients with nerve damage to their upper extremities. I trust my medical colleagues will no doubt come up with many more useful ways to apply this technique, and I very much look forward to hearing about them."

Stephen finished off his speech, watching as the audience began their applause. It felt good, even though he'd basically been stroking his own ego for the last 45 minutes. Still, everyone seemed suitably impressed or else they were masking their boredom with politeness. A younger doctor stepped up to the podium and shook his hand.

"Thank you very much Dr Strange" she said into the microphone, "please feel free to stick around. There are refreshments available just outside, so help yourself."

There was a final round of applause before everyone started making their way to the free refreshments. Stephen wound his way through the crowd. He needed a drink, and maybe the wine would actually be pleasant this time. He'd barely picked up the glass when he felt a tap.

"Dr Strange" a confident voice said.

Stephen turned, greeted by the easy smile of Tony Stark. The man exuded confidence, right down to the way he held his own drink in front of him.

"Tony Stark" he said, holding a hand out.

Stephen took it, nodding his own greeting. He hadn't thought Stark would be here. Come to think of it, why was he here? Stark was a mechanic, an engineer. While he was certainly smart, surely that didn't extend to medicine.

"I didn't think you'd be interested in something like this Mr Stark" Stephen said politely.

The man was obviously up to something. He always was.

"On the contrary, it's right up my alley" Stark said, flicking out his wrist to look at his watch, "or rather it became my alley as of ... two days and five minutes ago."

Stephen raised an eyebrow. How very like Stark to throw himself into a new project on a whim. He didn't wait for Stephen to start talking again as he ploughed on.

"Anyway, I was hoping to talk to you about a project I'm working on. You know Helen Cho?"

"I've heard of her" Stephen said, remembering an article he'd read, "she's based out of Korea, works on tissue regeneration."

"That's the one. I've been helping her develop her technology and making it more affordable so it can see wider use. We got talking about ways we could improve it and she mentioned how her techniques didn't work that well for amputees."

"Seriously" Stephen said, "everything I've heard about her work makes it seem like it can do anything."

Stark shrugged.

"Nothing's perfect" he said simply, "but anyway, we got talking about how if we couldn't completely regrow a limb then maybe we could make some kind of prosthetic which would work instead."

This piqued Stephens interest. If Stark was saying what he thinks he's saying, then that meant...

"You're wanting to make a prosthetic that interfaces with the patients nervous system" he said.

Stark smiled.

"That is the aim. I'm sure you can guess the main issue we came up with."

"Making the bridge from organic nerves to artificial circuitry."

"Indeed. We were hoping to ease the transition by wiring the thing to make it as close to a human limb as possible. We think we might be able to get something working in a few weeks, less if I'm lucky."

Stephen took that to mean 'if I don't sleep at all'.

"I was hoping, eminent neurosurgeon that you are, you'd be able to lend your considerable expertise to the project" Stark said.

Clever boy Stark, Stephen thought, stroking my ego to get me to agree. It did sound interesting. Being able to interface a biological nervous system to an artificial one, so the patient could control a prosthetic with their minds. Who knows where the possibilities ended. Feeling sensations with the prosthetic?

"It does sound intriguing" Stephen mused aloud, "I'll have to give it some thought."

"Can I get your details then?" Stark asked.

"Ask the hospital, I'll let them know to expect a call" Stephen said.

If Stark really was serious, he'd get his details himself, or more likely he'd have someone else get the details, but that didn't matter so much. With a final handshake, the two parted, drifting back into the crowds. The evening wound down slowly, guests leaving in drips and drabs, until Stephen was one of the last. His glass was empty, but he hadn't refilled it. He didn't like to feel out of control.

"I think I'll take my leave" Stephen said, approaching the organising team.

They showered him with thanks and handshakes as he left room. On several of the windowsills he passed on the way out, wine glasses were left standing. Stephen almost felt sorry for whoever had to clean up the mess. His car was exactly where he left it, and he wanted nothing more than to get back home. He was meeting with Dr Banner again in the morning, as well as his secretary to find a new patient. He'd been between patients for a little while and he was anxious to get back to his practise. The roads were clear, letting him really open up the engine. The rev of the engine and the gentle winding of the roads was oddly relaxing, helping calm his mind from the socialising. Bright lights jarred him out of his reverie. He slammed his foot on the breaks, twisting the steering wheel so he was nowhere near the other side of the road. The car skidded to a halt. Oh my god! That was close. His breath caught in his chest. Had he drifted over to the other side of the road or had he just over reacted? The car was closing in around him. The pounding on the window was gunshots in his ears.

"Are you alright?"

Was there any air in this car? Surely there must be, so why wasn't he getting any? Well he needed to breathe first. He needed to get out of here, out of this car, away from ... he didn't even know what.

"Sir, are you alright?"

The hand shook his shoulder and cold air rushed down his throat. Stephen took huge lungfuls of air. The air was back. His car door was open and a man was crouched beside him. He looked concerned. Stephen tried turning to face him, but he couldn't move. His hands were gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white.

"Yeah, I think I'm fine" Stephen said, trying to keep the shake out of his voice.

"What happened there?" the man asked.

"I ... I'm not sure. I think I'm just a bit jumpy" Stephen said.

"Are you gonna be alright?"

"Yes. I think so."

That time his voice really did shake, but the man seemed to take his word for it, returning to his car. Stephen waited until he drove off. He was breathing now, his heart rate slowly returning to normal. What the hell was that? Surely that wasn't a panic attack. Stephen had studied for and achieved a PhD and an MD at the same time. He'd performed complex surgery on a well loved politician where a millimetre was the difference between saving his life and killing him. He worked on one of the most delicate apparatuses in the human body and never once had he panicked. Yet bright lights on a dark road at night, out of nowhere? Ridiculous. All the same, Stephen was a lot more careful for the rest of his drive and he didn't entirely calm down until he was safely back in his apartment.

 

It went without saying that Stephen didn't sleep well that night. Bright lights and broken hands were all he saw when he closed his eyes. His alarm went off and he dragged himself out of bed. The cool tiles didn't wake him up. Coffee just made his heart beat faster not awake. The car ride was marred by the constant tension in his shoulders. It was only after he stepped through the door into the hospital that things started to feel normal. The door opened with a woosh like it always did. The receptionist smiled at him like she always did. This was right. Waiting on his desk was a brown file. It was the newest scans of Dr Banner. He needed to go over them. The waves on the wall felt calming as he browsed the scans. All looked well and he felt a smile creep onto his face. All was well. He put on his white coat and made his way to the ward. Dr Banner was getting himself ready, stopping only as Strange entered the room.

"Dr Strange" he greeted him.

"Dr Banner" Stephen replied, "please have a seat."

Banner sat back down on the bed and Stephen pulled up a chair.

"Are those my scans?"

"Indeed they are" Stephen said.

Banner prompted him to go on.

"If we look at the scans from six months ago, we can see a very noticeable tumour pressing on your amygdala" Stephen said, pulling out the newest scans, "the ones we took yesterday are clear. No tumour. You've responded well to the medications. You've reported no more weird mood swings, so I feel confident in saying Dr Banner that you're in the clear."

He could see Banner relax.

"There'll be other check ups?"

Stephen nodded.

"That's good news" Banner said.

"I'm sure you're glad it's over" Stephen said.

"Absolutely. I can't tell you how unnerving it is to feel anger like that. It's like I was a completely different person."

I've seen that person and it isn't pleasant, Stephen thought. Wait, no he hadn't. He'd only met the man yesterday. But it sounded right in his head. Anger and Bruce Banner seemed to go hand in hand, but why? Something must have shown because Banner frowned.

"Doctor? You ok?"

Stephen jerked, only realising now that he'd been gripping the file in his hands too tightly.

"I'm fine Dr Banner. If you'll excuse me, a nurse can help you check out" Stephen said, abruptly standing.

"Oh, alright then" Banner said, confused.

Stephen left the room, gesturing for a nurse to come help Banner. He needed to get away, away from patients so they didn't see him. Thankfully a bathroom was just down the hall so he basically stormed towards it.

"Stephen?" someone said but he ignored them.

There was no one else in the bathroom, which he was grateful.

"Get it together Strange" he said, splashing water in his face.

Get it together, so why did he feel so weird? It kept happening though. The crash victim. Stark at the event last night. The car on the road. And now Dr Banner. Why did they all seem so familiar? He felt a shake in his hands but he roughed it out. Get it together Strange. With a deep breath, he plastered on his professional doctor face and left the bathroom. His facade almost crumbled right there as he was faced with Christine Palmer. She was looking at him shrewdly. He smiled, hoping to brow her off, and walked back to his office. Soft footsteps followed him so he wasn't surprised to see Christine sat across from him when he sat down.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" he said under his breath.

"Because you've been acting really weird. You keep spacing out, not focusing much, and you just stormed into the bathroom looking disturbed."

Had he been that obvious? Christine, who had looked slightly amused before, now looked at him with some concern.

"Are you alright Stephen?" she repeated.

"I'm ... I'm not sure" Stephen replied, choosing his words very carefully, "it doesn't help that I nearly crashed the car last night."

He'd hoped that saying it offhandedly would divert her attention. And it did.

"You what? What happened?" she asked, shocked.

"What can I say? It was a dark road and a blind corner, but I'm fine Christine. No damage done."

"I know you Stephen and you are not a reckless driver. Something really must be up if you were that distracted." she said.

Damn, back to the original topic.

"I don't know what to tell you Christine" he said.

"There must be something," Christine said quietly, "you want to talk about it?"

Stephen couldn't be too annoyed at her, she meant well. He sighed. There was no way he could tell Christine what it really was. How was he supposed to explain the strange feeling of familiarity that kept happening? It was like deja vu, but for things that there was no way he could have experienced before.

"Well, you know where I am if you want to talk" she said.

Stephen nodded. She patted his arm and left his office. Stephen sighed again. He would be fine. A distraction would help, surely. He booted up his computer, looking over his ocean painting until it was ready. The news was never usually interesting to him, but something somewhere had to be able to distract him. A headline jumped out at him. Crisis in Latveria continues, peace talks in jeopardy. This should be good.

 

_The humanitarian crisis in Latveria is showing no signs of slowing down, despite the efforts of mediators from the UN and Wakanda. The European country, known for its reclusivity and, at times, hostility to outsiders, has been the subject of humanitarian debates for decades. It has been a stark outsider to the rest of Europe, which after World War Two sought greater unity between countries. Latveria, on the other hand, has refused to engage with the international community, choosing to remain in isolation. In recent years, refugees have managed to leave the county, bringing with them tales of extreme authoritarianism from the country's leader._

_When questioned by UN representatives, Latverian officials denied the allegations, instead pointing to evidence that those who fled were all convicted criminals. Naturally this led to debate about the treatment of Latverian prisoners and political dissidents. Undercover journalists attempting to enter the country were all detained and only released after pressure from the UN. Latveria's neighbours have all expressed their unease at the increasingly militant nature that communications have taken, leading to intervention by the UN. When this only seemed to escalate the situation, mediators from Wakanda stepped in._

_"This is a very delicate situation, obviously, "says former US army general Thaddeus Ross, "I can't say much. The United States is confident that there is a peaceful option available, and I have every faith that the mediators from the UN, and their colleagues from Wakanda, will be able to find it."_

_Latverian officials haven't given many statements to the international press. In their last, officials have said that all Latveria wants is to remain within its borders with its own business. They said that Latveria asks the leaders of the world to leave them alone and they will gladly do the same. As the peace talks continue under more and more pressure to find a resolution, several European countries have expressed their concerns that the talks will devolve further until conflict breaks out. There have been reports, which have yet to be substantiated, of movement by the Latverian military along the border. From an interview with one of the Wakandan mediators..._

 

Thaddeus Ross. That name seemed familiar but Stephen couldn't quite place it. He was sure it had something to do with the government. Opening a new tab, Stephen searched up Ross. The man had a Wikipedia page, though it wasn't very long. His eyes darted over the information on the screen, picking up the occasional word that jumped out. Decorated military career. Oversaw several research and development projects. Retired to spend more time with his daughter. Vocal proponent of war time accountability. Nothing that screamed why Stephen would know him. He was sure it was some big time government job. He pulled up a list of the current cabinet. Ross's name wasn't on the list, because of course he wouldn't be. So why did that seem so wrong? Stephen had never met the man before so why did he feel like he should know what his life should look like? The news was supposed to be a distraction from these odd feelings but that hadn't worked. Stephen searched another for Bruce Banner, finding many articles authored by the man. He searched again, this time for Steve Rogers. He remembered the man from the news and sure enough the first picture was of an old man at a podium given some kind of address. Apparently the man had fought in World War Two and had since become one of the most loved philanthropists, working to find peaceful solutions to global conflicts, as well as provide aid to those who need it. That was very much like Steve Rogers, Stephen thought, but it wasn't enough, there should be something more. More what? More pro action? More heroic actions? More something! Something that Stephen couldn't put his finger on. Stephen huffed in frustration. Get it together! He hurriedly packed his things and left his office.

"It's a bit early Stephen?" the receptionist said as he passed.

"Something came up" was all Stephen responded with.

Stephen tapped away on the steering wheel the whole drive home. Steve Rogers. Bruce Banner. Thaddeus Ross. The man in the OR. Tony Stark. Why were these things causing him so many problems? Stephen couldn't quite explain it. It's not like it was anything huge. It was just a lot of little things, little things which didn't quite add up. His apartment was exactly as he left it. He just needed some time to calm down. Obviously he was stressed. Maybe he'd been overdoing it a bit, taking on too many cases with too many complicated procedures. Yes, that must be it. He just needed to calm down, take a break, do something relaxing. Slipping into more comfortable clothes, Stephen sat down at his piano. There wasn't anything in particular he was playing, he just let the notes come out as they may. The melody was slow and soothing, and as his hands danced over the keys, Stephen some of the tension ease out of his shoulders. The first odd note made him pause for a brief moment. It doesn't matter, he thought, he was free playing, he was bound to miss a key. Then it happened again. Stephen huffed slightly, trying to move back to a more familiar tune rather than just making it up. But the notes weren't coming, or rather they were but his hands weren't working properly.

His hands!

Stephen watched as they shook. The tremor was only slight, a thought that did little to slow his quickening breathing. He needed his hands! They were a precision tool, a scalpel not a chainsaw. The air in the room thickened, like sludge and none of it was going down his throat. He was breathing. Surely he was, but it wasn't working. Get a grip Stephen! The wood of the piano was hard. The cushion of the seat was soft. He could feel a light breeze from the air conditioning. His chest was expanding and contracting, air was moving in and out, and his hands? His hands had stopped shaking. Stephen leaned forward, nearly resting his head on the piano keys. What was that? Did stress cause tremors? He'd have to look it up but that felt almost like what his patients described nerve damage to be like. Despite his panic, the tremor felt normal. It felt ... right. He shook his head. No, it wasn't right! The apartment door opened. Stephen whipped his head around, trying to tough through the dizziness that came with the sudden movement.

"For someone who supposedly has an eidetic memory, I can't believe you forgot that we were supposed to be meeting this afternoon" Christine said.

She moved comfortably through the apartment, depositing her bag on the kitchen island, not looking over at him.

"I mean, this paper was your idea" she said, "I never thought I'd see the day when Stephen Strange wanted to write a paper about caring for patients. It's not as if there's much glory in it, so not much...".

She stopped talking only when she finally looked over at him. Her face, which had been somewhat animated, fell. Stephen guessed he didn't look his best. Christine rushed over, kneeling beside him.

"Stephen?"

Gently, she placed her hands on his knees.

"I wanted to give you some space, but this is too much. What is going on with you?"

"I... I don't...".

He sighed, hanging his head.

"Stephen, there's a time for keeping it in, and there's a time for letting it out" Christine said.

He knew that, he did. It wasn't that he was purposefully not telling her, it's just he didn't really know how to explain it. How was he supposed to put these weird feelings into words? Christine waited patiently before speaking softly.

"Please don't take this the wrong way, but maybe you need to see a psychologist" she said.

Her words were warm but they sent chills down Stephens spine. His head shot up, staring her directly in the eye.

"I'm not crazy" he said.

Christine took his hands in hers.

"I know you're not Stephen, and that's not why I said it" she said patiently, "we're doctors. We deal with heavy problems all the time and that takes its toll, even for the strongest of us."

"So what? I'm supposed to try and put into words something which I don't even understand myself to some stranger I've never met?"

Christine didn't stop the sympathetic look on her face. No, it was almost like pity. No, Stephen could not handle pity. If she wasn't knelt rut in front of him, he would have gotten up and walked away. If he wasn't still reeling from his panic, he would have bitten back with some harsh retort, all to stop the pity.

"Remember that shootout a few months ago?" Christine asked.

Stephen frowned.

"The one at the convenience store? Seven injured, six dead?"

"That's the one."

"You took some time off" Stephen commented.

"I did. Like you, I didn't really know why I had to. It felt weird, different somehow. It wasn't that people died, it wasn't that people were hurt, even that a kid had been hurt. It was that one of the officers said that one of the civilians, he had a bag of groceries, and I couldn't stop thinking about why he had them. Was he picking up things he forgot? Or was he shopping for the week? Was it for something special? I couldn't get it out of my head that that man bought groceries for a reason, and he would never be able to do anything with them now."

She squeezed his hands.

"Talking to someone can help. It helped me."

"I don't want people to think I'm crazy" Stephen said, finally finding his voice.

"She wouldn't. She specialises in helping people who work in high stress environments. Doctors, fire fighters, paramedics, people like that. She won't judge, not even you."

This is a bad idea, Stephen thought, but he nodded all the same. He still thought it the next day when he walked through the doors to the hospital, past the familiar swoosh and smiling receptionist, through the corridors and hallways, until he left the familiar and into the unknown. He still thought even as he stood in front of a simple wooden door. He still thought it as he knocked on the door of Dr Wanda Maximoff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading. Please let me know what you think of this chapter. As always I welcome any and all feedback.
> 
> Apologies for the delay in updates. My final uni exams have been taking all of my time.


	11. Strange Familiarity

He’d knocked and it sounded about as loud as his heart hammering in his chest. He could still walk away.

“Come in” a voice called from inside the office.

Damn, no turning back now. Stephen steeled himself, took a deep breath and a final glance that there was no one he knew around, and entered. The office was small, not as large as his, but it felt no less comfortable. Most of the space was taken up by two large chairs, practically couches set in the middle of the room. A desk and chair were pushed up against one wall, almost like they were an afterthought. Dr Wanda Maximoff was watching him curiously, pausing halfway taking a file from a cabinet, bringing with her another bout of familiarity.

“Dr Strange, to what do I owe this pleasure?” she said, returning the file and facing him fully.

“Dr Maximoff” Stephen greeted her, hoping to shake away the feeling.

This was why he was here, but he didn’t know what he was supposed to do now. The whole lie down on the chair routine seemed too surreal to actually be helpful but he didn’t have any other reference for what a therapist did.

“Can I help you?” Dr Maximoff asked.

Her tone was kind and her expression was not one of judgement. Stephen sighed. There was a time for bottling it up, and there was a time for letting it out.

“I’m worried about my mental health.”

Blunt as always Stephen, he thought. Dr Maximoff nodded and gestured to the couch in front of Stephen.

“Have a seat” she said.

Stephen did so, and Dr Maximoff sat on the other couch opposite him. She watched him patiently and Stephen got the distinct feeling of control. She wasn’t pressing him for details, at least not yet. That was good, right?

“I don’t want to intrude on your schedule or anything. I can make an appointment if you’d prefer” Stephen said.

“It’s no bother” Dr Maximoff said, “I try to keep my mornings clear, or at least as clear as I can manage.”

Stephen nodded, casting his eyes around for a topic of conversation, one that didn’t involve him. Dr Maximoff didn’t let him though.

“You have some worries” she prompted.

Stephen nodded..

“Yes, I… I don’t really know how to...” Stephen said.

Footsteps passed the door and Stephen couldn’t help but glance over at it, derailing his sentence as he did so. Dr Maximoff didn’t say anything as she continued to watch him.

“...how to put it into words” he finished.

Stephen could feel his shoulders tensing up. Any moment now he was expecting someone to come bursting through the door. The gossip practically wrote itself. Did you hear that Stephen Strange went to see a therapist? I know, I saw him go into the office. Do you think he’s losing it? With that ego of his, you’d think he would have cracked years ago. Maybe he did and he just hid it really well. You’d have to be crazy to do the kinds of things of operations he does. What was this hospital thinking letting him continue working! Dr Maximoff nodded slowly.

“I understand. It can be difficult, especially for smart people” she said, “it doesn’t help that you’re a doctor in a hospital.”

Stephen frowned, but he could guess her meaning.

“I’ll do what I can to help you” she said as she scribbled something down on a spare piece of paper, “here, how does 2:30 sound?”

Stephen stared at the paper, not sure whether she wanted him to take it. She was holding it out for to him, so surely she must. In a neat handwriting was written an address.

“What’s this for?” Stephen asked.

And what’s 2:30?

“Your appointment, if you want to” Dr Maximoff said with a smile.

She placed her hands in her lap.

“It can be stressful, asking for help when you need it. For doctors it’s even more so. You need to be so strong, all the time, and I know full well that patients talk. It’s been one of my biggest challenges in my practise, finding ways to make a doctor comfortable, and what I’ve found is that a hospital is the last place a doctor wants to be.”

Stephen mulled that over. It certainly would be easier to talk if he wasn’t worried somebody would find out. Dr Maximoff smiled as he thought.

“I have an office set up at my house that I use for out of hospital appointments. We can meet there and work things out. How does that sound?” she asked.

“That sounds … actually really good” Stephen said.

“Then I’ll see you at 2:30. In the meantime, I’d suggest giving some thought as to how you’d like to put it into words” Dr Maximoff said.

Stephen stood and thanked her, shaking her hand. He definitely didn’t pause ever so slightly as he opened the door, and definitely didn’t strain his ears for sounds of people moving. The corridor outside was clear and he made it all the way back to his office before anyone so much as acknowledged him. Nobody would know, thank god. Christine was waiting for him in his office. She hid it well, but Stephen could see a nervousness to her posture as she stood.

“Did you see her?” she asked as he closed the door.

“Yes I did.”

“And?” she prompted.

“I have an appointment with her this afternoon” Stephen said.

“That’s good.”

“Now I believe we have a paper to work on” Stephen said, searching one of his desk drawers for a notepad.

Christine frowned at him.

“I’m not ignoring it Christine” he said, “but I can’t let this whatever this is put my life on hold. We have patients to help, don’t we Christine?”

“Yes, we do” Christine said carefully, not willing to let the topic drop.

“Good” Stephen said, “I think we need to put some more thought into the ethics of the control group.”

Christine pursed her lips. She didn’t want to let the topic drop so easily. Stephen watched her, waiting for her response. After a few moments, she sighed.

“I agree. The only problem is that we’re dealing with patients with nerve damage. It’s difficult to make a control group for a sample like that” she said.

“Difficult, but not impossible” Stephen said.

It was like things made sense. Whatever was going on with him right now, all the strange feelings, that didn’t matter because this, right now, felt right. Stephen Strange talking medicine with Christine Palmer. It was oddly liberating to do something that was so … correct. As the conversation wore on, the room relaxed. Christine let go her earlier reservations and between the two, they wiled away the rest of the morning. They were just finishing their lunch when Stephen checked the time.

“I should probably get going” he said, his good mood draining slightly.

Christine didn’t falter, smiling warmly as she calmly gripped his shoulder.

“You’ll be fine. It’ll help.”

Here’s hoping, he thought.

“Get in touch with the funding committee. We may need more money for the extra controls.”

“Will do” Christine said.

Stephen wanted to stay and keep working. He wanted to forget that anything was wrong, but he’d started down this road. He should travel down it, at least a little bit.

 

Dr Maximoff’s house was in a nice neighbourhood in Midtown, in the middle of a row of similar townhouses. It looked well kept and completely ordinary. Stephen couldn’t help but feel nervous as he walked up to the door. This is completely ridiculous, I’m just having a bit of a rough patch. Get it together Stephen. His knocks weren’t as confident as he’d like, but they were enough as the door opened only a few moments later. Dr Maximoff was dressed in more casual clothing than she’d been in at the hospital, and she greeted him warmly.

“Come in, come in” she said.

Everywhere he looked in the entrance hall, there was evidence of a happy home. Coats were draped over the end of the banister leading upstairs. Pictures hung on the walls, full of smiling people. It was just an ordinary house. Think about it Stephen, he thought to himself. This woman has made it her job to make people feel comfortable enough to talk. What were you expecting?

“Would you like something to drink? Tea? Coffee?” Dr Maximoff said, bustling through to the kitchen.

“No thank you” Stephen said, but he was slightly distracted.

Dr Maximoff nodded as she set about making herself a cup of tea. Stephen tried thinking of something to break the silence before it got awkward.

“You live in a nice house” he settled on.

“Thank you. It was luck we managed to get it” Dr Maximoff said.

“But you’re an esteemed psychiatrist” Stephen commented.

Dr Maximoff chuckled.

“Maybe in the small world of our hospital, but outside of that not really.”

“I find that hard to believe” Stephen said.

“Unfortunately, mental health professionals aren’t always lucky in that regard” she said, “but I’m not complaining. I’ve been lucky in other ways.”

“Family?”

She nodded with a smile. Before she could speak, the front door opened and two voices carried through to the kitchen.

“Is Mom home?”

“Yes, she sent me a message earlier.”

“Nice to be kept in the loop.”

“This is me keeping you in the loop.”

Dr Maximoff shook her head in the kind of exasperation only family could truly pull off.

“I’m in the kitchen” she called out.

Stephen turned as two people entered the room. One was a tall man. His face was sharp with a slightly receding hairline, giving the impression of a smooth forehead. He was dressed in smart casual clothing with a bag slung over one shoulder. The other was a teenager. He was short, wearing an unzipped black hoodie with a bright red inside, and like the man he had a bag on his shoulders. He didn’t look that much like the man, but Stephen couldn’t help the slight stare. It was probably the strongest feeling he’d had. Before it had been a fluttering, a curious sensation of familiarity but still distant. This wasn’t. This was a pang, and it hit him hard. The teen didn’t look fazed but Stephen looked away all the time.

“Stephen, this is my husband Jonah and our son Billy” Dr Maximoff said, gesturing to the man and teen in turn.

“It’s a pleasure” Jonah said, holding out a hand which Stephen shook.

Stephen couldn’t help but be suspicious. Christine had said Dr Maximoff would be discreet. He felt he could understand the gossip of doctors, but this was unknown territory. Jonah was British, so hopefully certain cultural stereotypes would help.

“Don’t worry, I won’t pry. Wanda explained enough when she messaged earlier” Jonah said, answering his obvious expression.

“Wait so this is a professional thing?” Billy asked.

“Yes so you know the drill” Jonah said, hand on Billy’s shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, do not disturb” the teen said, waving off his dad’s hand and opening the fridge.

“Oh, how did you biology test go today?” Dr Maximoff asked as he pulled out a soda.

“I think I aced it. Teacher said we’d get it back next week.”

“Well done, I know you worked hard on it.”

Billy dropped his head, trying to hide the blush.

“Thanks Mom” he said quietly.

The room was silent for a moment.

“Billy” Jonah prompted.

“Right, going” the teen said and he left the kitchen.

Stephen could hear him padding up the stairs.

“If you need anything just give me a shout” Jonah said.

Dr Maximoff thanked him before leading Stephen from the room. They went up the stairs and into a large room. Stephen guessed it had probably been a living room before she began a home practise here.

“Nice family” Stephen commented.

“I’ve been lucky.”

Dr Maximoff sat in an armchair and she gestured for Stephen to sit. Despite being an armchair like hers, and not being the long lie down kind of things he was slightly expecting, Stephen didn’t feel any better about it. Because now you have to talk about it.

“If you don’t mind me asking, but you don’t seem old enough to have a teenage son?”

Dr Maximoff smiled. She must get this question a lot. He felt himself pale slightly.

“Don’t worry, lots of people think that. We found out that we couldn’t have kids so looked into adopting. Yeah, I was young but it made sense. We’ve had Billy since he was 8.”

Stephen let the conversation drop, even if talking about something other than himself was keeping him calm.

“Do you mind if I take notes?” Dr Maximoff asked.

Stephen nodded, not yet trusting himself to speak about it. Dr Maximoff took out a blank notepad and pen.

“Have you had a chance to think about how you want to put things into words?”

“Well, I’ve been a bit busy today” Stephen replied.

Busy on purpose. Maybe he had been avoiding it? Dr Maximoff smiled.

“Anything interesting?”

“Christine and I are working on a paper together” Stephen said, feeling himself relax slightly, “we’re looking into ways to improve care for patients with nerve damage.”

Dr Maximoff looked impressed.

“Your reputation certainly precedes you. Always working to help others. So how can I help you?”

The words died on his tongue.

“I...”.

“If it helps, start vague. We can get to specifics later” Dr Maximoff suggested.

That may actually be helpful, he thought. He took a deep breath, hoping that if he just started talking he’d get somewhere.

“You ever had deja vu?” he asked.

Dr Maximoff nodded.

“Most people have to some degree” Stephen said, “it’s usually something mundane enough that it could happen more than once, but unusual enough to stand out against the background.”

He sighed.

“I guess it’s like that, but not quite. Is that vague enough?”

“You feel like you’ve experienced things before?” Dr Maximoff asked, “you’re having lots of feelings of deja vu?”

“Well, yes … and no. Deja vu is usually not that specific. Like I said, unusual but still mundane. This is just … familiarity, I guess” he said.

Dr Maximoff made a note before looking up again, silently telling him to keep going.

“It’s like those cheesy friendships you hear about. I feel like I’ve known you my whole life even though they only met a week ago, that kind of thing.”

“You feel like you’ve known people for longer than you have?”

“Not really. It’s more like … like I should know them. Or I should know them differently. Or...”.

He sighed.

“You said vague right?”

She nodded.

“It’s like … it’s like the world isn’t … right.”

“In what way?”

Her words were gentle, and true to her word there was no judgement in them.

“Like things should be one way but they aren’t. I’ll see a news story and get confused because I thought things were different, but that’s ridiculous because it’s never been like that. I’ll see someone and...” Stephen said but he cut himself off.

There was no way he could really talk about his familiarity with people, at least not yet. Dr Maixmoff nodded, taking in what he said. She made a few notes.

“Is it lots of things that make you feel this way, or is it only certain things?” she asked, not commenting on his cut off.

“Only certain things.”

“When did these feelings start?”

He thought back. There were a few things he could think of which could be the start, but only one really stood out, the one which really started his slow spiral.

“I was needed to help with a car crash victim. The man needed surgery to repair the damage to his nerves.”  
Dr Maximoff opened her mouth to speak but Stephen spoke over her.

“I know you said earlier that doctors need to be strong for their patients and that takes its toll, but I’ve done countless surgeries like that. I’ve worked under harder circumstances with higher stakes. It wasn’t really anything about the surgery itself, it just felt so … familiar.”

“Like you said, you’ve done that kind of surgery before” Dr Maximoff said.

“I know. That’s what I thought at the time, but then it just kept happening, and it all seemed to come back to that.”

He could feel his hands shaking. The feeling was familiar in a way he didn’t like, because this shaking came from nerve damage and his hands were fine. He clasped them together tightly, waiting until the shaking stopped. He knew that Dr Maximoff noticed, but she didn’t comment which he was glad about. There was a question on the tip of his tongue, one he wanted to ask but he knew that asking it would be harder than anything. It was only three words, but they were practically lead in his mouth.

“Am I crazy?”

He was surprised to actually hear sounds coming out of his mouth. He ran a hand over his face, trying to mask the turbulent emotions he was feeling. If he was crazy, he couldn’t practise medicine. If he couldn’t practise medicine, he was nothing. It was all he had, all he’d ever wanted since he was just a small boy. Dr Strange made a difference but Stephen Strange was just a man with a weird name. There are other ways to save lives. Somebody said that to him, maybe Christine, maybe someone else. Wait, had someone said that to him? Dr Maximoff watched him but he could tell she was considering his question.

“I don’t think you’re crazy Stephen” she said calmly.

Stephen let out an incredulous laugh. He obviously was.

“Then what is wrong with me?” Stephen said, hoping it didn’t come across as harshly as he thought it sounded.

Dr Maximoff again paused, but not as long this time.

“I think you’re human, and human means letting ourselves feel everything we’ve experienced. That’s something that doctors can sometimes deny themselves. The man in the car accident went through a horrible experience, one that you helped him through, and you wouldn’t be human if you didn’t feel some of that horror.”

“But I’ve done so many surgeries like that” Stephen said, still not believing that he wasn’t crazy.

“Mundane enough that it can happen more than once, but unusual enough to be noticeable” Dr Maximoff said, “you’ve performed so many surgeries and any one of them could have been the one to get under your skin. Were you expecting to perform surgery that day?”

Stephen thought back. He’d met with Dr Banner to discuss his tests, and he’d been preparing for his presentation the next day. He hadn’t even considered having to so much as scrub up, let alone lead an hours long surgery.

“No.”

“When we know we’re going into a difficult situation, we have all sorts of strategies for handling the stress. When difficulty is thrust upon us, we sometimes struggle to catch up with it, which can be stressful in and of itself.”

That … made sense, sort of. Stephen mulled it over. Was this just an overblown reaction to a high pressure, and unexpected, surgery? No it couldn’t be. There were other times. Stark, and the car on the road. They had nothing to do with it.

“So what do I do?”

“The ultimate goal, I feel, is to help find some strategies to help you manage the stress and emotional burden so this doesn’t happen again. In the meantime, we can work through the stress you already have” Dr Maximoff said.

She leaned forward slightly.

“You said there were other times this happened? Where you felt like you should know something you couldn’t have known? When it felt weird and off?”

Stephen nodded.

“What I’d like you to do is make a list. Write down all the things, big or small, that you don’t feel are right, that you feel should be different. Next time we can start working through them and get to the bottom of things” she said.

“It’ll be a long list then” Stephen said lightly.

Her look was dry but she didn’t hide the smirk.

“You know what I’m asking you for.”

“Of course.”

She didn’t want the world according to Stephen Strange, she wanted the world according to Stephen Strange’s odd and, hopefully temporarily, messed up mind. He stood as she did.

“Thank you very much Dr Maximoff” he said.

They left the room and back down the stairs. He heard someone moving around in the kitchen. Probably Jonah, Stephen thought.

“Shall we set another appointment?” Dr Maximoff asked.

“I think that would be wise” Stephen said.

“We can meet here or at the hospital. Whatever you feel comfortable with.”

“Here” Stephen said, perhaps a little too quickly, “if that’s not a problem.

“Not at all” Dr Maximoff said and they arranged a time.

“Thank you very much” Stephen said as he walked out the door.

He wasn’t looking ahead of him. It was only the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps that made him quickly turn and jump aside. A man practically skidded to a stop just in front of him. He was about the same height as Stephen, with a mop of blonde curls on his head. He bore a striking resemblance to Dr Maximoff.

“Pietro, what have I told you about slowing down around people” Dr Maximoff scolded him.

“I’m sorry Stephen, my brother sometimes gets ahead of his head” she said to him.

“It’s no problem, I wasn’t watching either” Stephen said.

Brother and sister, that made sense. Probably twins if the similarity is anything to go by.

“Sorry man, didn’t see you” the man, Pietro, said to him, before looking past him into the house, “is Billy ready yet?”

“Why? Are you going somewhere?” Dr Maximoff asked.

“We’re going for a run” Pietro said.

Dr Maximoff called for the teen and a few moments later there he was, dressed in similar workout gear to his uncle.

“You ready kid?” Pietro asked.

“Yeah. We’re going at my speed right? Not yours?” Billy asked, his tone not entirely joking.

“That depends” Pietro said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Behave Pietro” Dr Maximoff said.

Stephen watched the friendly bantering and made his exit. He needed to get home and start his list, if he was able to focus on it that much. His head was still reeling slightly from what Dr Maximoff said. Maybe he wasn’t going mad, he just hadn’t learned proper stress management. That shouldn’t be too hard to fix, surely? And if it all stemmed from that, then maybe these weird feelings of familiarity weren’t weird at all. They were just the usual, everyday, human thoughts which usually slip by unnoticed and leave equally as unnoticed. He’d never met Tony Stark before, but he was all over the news in some shape or form. A slight moment of panic was natural after a near miss traffic incident. Nothing to worry about.

But there was.

Because Stephen was forgetting something important. That teenager, Billy. He’d never seen him before in his life. He wasn’t famous so wasn’t in the news. In every way, he was ordinary. Ordinary parents, ordinary home, likely ordinary school and friend. So why did Stephen feel like he should know him? That’s what the pang was, it was like being reunited with a long lost friend. A sledgehammer of emotions for someone that you care about. But why did Stephen care about him? It was the sort of thing that would fit perfectly on a list of things that felt weird, but Dr Maximoff would see that list. That’d be an interesting conversation. Thanks for all the help doctor, it really made me see how much I apparently should care for a teenager I’ve never met before who also happens to be your son. Promise I haven’t stalked him or anything. Stephen wanted to laugh at the situation, but he couldn’t. Because as weird and as disturbing as it was to care for Billy, to Stephen it also felt right, somehow. Boy didn’t that make him feel guilty.

Maybe he was going mad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading this chapter. I hope you liked it. Please feel free to leave any comments or criticisms, I really appreciate it.
> 
> I'm a bit unsure of this chapter as I don't feel like a lot happened, but I'm going to trust in my plan.


	12. The Wrong World

Having taken a more scenic route home to hopefully clear his head, the sun was starting to set by the time Stephen walked through the door of his apartment. The large windows bathed the open space in orange light. The drive had given him time to think, to evaluate. There was no use feeling guilt about Dr Maximoff’s son. If it is like she said and these feelings were stemming from a poor response to a stressful situation, then it was entirely possible that they had nothing to do with Billy at all. He may just be a reminder of something, another patient that Stephen had treated. That must be it. Young people elicited sympathy, people cared about them. Dr Maximoff had said he was human, so of course he would feel that too. That already made him feel a little better.

Maybe there was something to this therapy deal.

Stephen sat down on his couch, notepad in hand. It reminded him of preparations for his talk. He flicked the TV on, settling on the news as background noise. There was a time for silence, like in an OR, and there was a time for low level sound to remind you that the world was still turning. This was a moment like that. The whole world wasn’t stopping because Stephen Strange didn’t have his thoughts together. He started writing. As he did so, the weird feelings made themselves known, pushing themselves to the forefront of his mind. But when they came, they brought with them ideas, ideas for why they were actually normal.

The man in the car accident. His hands had been crushed and suffered the worst of the nerve damage. Stephen was a surgeon. His whole career depended on the hyper fine coordination he’d built up in his hands. Knowing that, and seeing a man so close to losing that part of him, obviously would affect him. If that had happened to him, Stephen didn’t know what he’d do.

Tony Stark. This one was easy. The man was a favourite of the media, who had gone from gossiping about his latest sexual conquest to his latest scientific breakthrough. Stark also had a reputation for oozing confidence and charisma. It would be easy to interpret those things as arrogance when viewed from afar and if unprepared. Stephen must have had that image of him before they’d spoken.

The near miss on the road. Again, another easy one. Who wouldn’t be freaked out by nearly hitting another car at night?

But there were other times which weren’t so easy to justify. These were often smaller, and now that Stephen thought about it, they’d completely flown under his radar. Tony Stark didn’t make weapons, but he thought he did. Well, Howard Stark had made weapons, but weapons manufacturing was massively scaled down following World War Two and was practically non existent by his death in 1991. Yet, Stephen remembered Tony as making weapons. Was he just getting details wrong? It had slipped out so easily in conversation so he must have done.

Then there was Bruce Banner. Somehow the idea of Banner and angry fit together in his head, and he even felt like he’d seen Banner angry, but he couldn’t have. He’d only just met the guy. Maybe this was a doctors empathy? The file was certainly fairly explicit about what the tumour did to the man, maybe Stephen somehow turned that into false memories? That made sense, possibly, but why that case in particular? Bruce Banner wasn’t the only one. As his mind wandered, Stephen thought of Thaddeus Ross and the google search he’d done. Ross hadn’t been secretary of state. He’d retired from the military to spend time with his daughter. Then there was Steve Rogers, the decorated war hero turned world renowned philanthropist. The man was incredibly old but Stephen had an image of him as incredibly well built. He looked that way in old photos, but to Stephen it felt more recent.

He wrote both of them down, because these must be something he could work through with Dr Maximoff. Just because he couldn’t see what they meant didn’t mean there wasn’t meaning. Stephen hesitated, his pen hovering above the paper. Dr Maximoff had told him to write down everything that he felt was wrong, everything that felt weird, but could he write about Billy? He wasn’t even all that sure how he felt about the teen. Setting down the pen, he closed his eyes and concentrated. Dr Maximoff would be better able to help him if he could at least narrow things down. Focusing on Billy, he let his mind clear, going through his surgeons mantra in his head and letting the sound of the news drown out everything else. Billy had certainly looked familiar, but it was more than that. There was a feeling of protectiveness, of responsibility, like Stephen had been in a position to care about him. He wrote it down anyway, letting his mind follow that line of thinking as he did so.

“Breaking news.”

Stephen startled from his thoughts. The news had suddenly become more than background noise, a headline appearing and demanding to be noticed. He should be annoyed, but the look on the reporters face told him this was serious.

“Peace talks between the UN and Latveria are at a breaking point. Ambassadors for both sides have been unable to reach any agreement despite the best efforts of the Wakandan mediators. We go now to our foreign affairs correspondent.”

The footage cut to shots of a different city.

“When American ambassadors for the UN met with representatives from Latveria on neutral territory here in Sokovia, it was hoped that conflict could be avoided. Now, those hopes have all but vanished. The isolationist nation has been increasingly stubborn in its demands that the UN not interfere with its business, and the UN has been increasingly stubborn about holding them to account for the human rights abuses. Mediators from Wakanda have tried their hardest to keep things civil but talks have seemed to take a more hostile tone. Journalists have not been allowed in the meeting hall, but according to someone who was present ‘they didn’t shout or anything like that, but they did make it clear that Latveria would not bow to the demands of the UN.’ When talks of military sanctions were brought up, they said ‘they laughed, right in the faces of the other representatives, and said that military presence would be seen as a sign of hostility against them.’

‘We are trying to avoid conflict. There have been too many wars fought and too many lives lost because those in power couldn’t come to the table and talk reasonably’ said King T’Chaka of Wakanda on behalf of the mediation team.

‘As a Wakandan, I understand Latveria’s reluctance to engage with the world, but I beg of their king to please think of the Latverian people. It is they who will be harmed by needless war.’

In response to the statement from Wakanda’s king, the Latverian ambassadors simply said it wouldn’t be the blood of Latveria that gets spilt. With talks now at an end and no peace in sight, several European countries are worried about the prospect of armed conflict and are preparing as such. The whole world will be watching and hoping that peace finds its way.”

As the report ended, Stephen found himself at a loss. He knew the Latverian crisis was going on, he’d heard the doctors gossiping about it at work, but he hadn’t realised it had gotten this bad. Wait? Latveria? Maybe his mind was in a different place, but the name Latveria didn’t sound as familiar as it should. This crisis had obviously been going on for a while now, but Stephen felt like he was only just hearing about it. His list was still beside him and he simply wrote Latveria, not bothering to try and think of a justification. Rereading his list, he had half a mind to stop there. Surely this was more than enough, but he kept going. Latveria had put another thought in his mind. If he was feeling strangely familiar with things he’d never seen, could he have also not been recognising things he had seen before? He closed his eyes, using his surgeons mantra once again to help him focus. These didn’t come as quickly to him, since he was trying to think of things he hadn’t noticed. Billy once again floated across his mind, but not just him. Dr Maximoff did too, as did her husband Jonah. Now that he thought about it, he felt the same familiarity towards them as he had about Stark. That meeting at the Maximoff house had been fill of surprises apparently, not least of which nearly getting hit by someone. Pietro, his name was.

“Stephen.”

Stephen felt himself frown slightly. Dr Maximoff and Jonah had seemed familiar, like he should know them more, and he didn’t even want to get into how he felt about Billy, but he’d felt nothing of the sort about Pietro. He was obviously related to Dr Maximoff but somehow the familiarity didn’t extend to him.

“Earth to Stephen.”

That wasn’t quite true, he thought. There was some feeling there. It was faint, but he could focus on it. It was some thought but only in connection to Dr Maximoff, like when people can only think of a person in relation to someone else. Sure Pietro had been introduced as her brother, but Stephen was sure it was more than that.

“Stephen” the voice said slightly louder, accompanied by a hand on his shoulder.

Stephen startled. Christine was stood in front of him, bent over so she could look him in the eye. Her face was concerned but also slightly amused.

“You back with us?”

He looked around confused. The news had ended, replaced by some late night talk show. Christine sat down next to him.

“Were you meditating just now?” she asked.

“I guess I was.”

“Did Dr Maximoff tell you to do that?”

“No. It just sort of … happened” Stephen said honestly.

She smiled slightly.

“Is it helping?” she asked.

Stephen twitched the paper with his list out of sight. Christine didn’t even look at it.

“I think it will” he said, “anyway, what are you doing here?”

“I was just checking in. I know after my firs session I felt a little rough” Christine said, “I also thought you might like some takeout.”

On the kitchen counter were two pizza boxes. It was a guilty pleasure, he knew how unhealthy it could be as a habit, but Stephen couldn’t help but love a New York pizza. Christine saw his small smile and matched it with one of her own.

“That actually sounds great.”

They both got up to fix themselves some food and Stephen wiled away the rest of the evening with Christine, talking about their paper, Christine’s mother troubles and whether or not the city would be better if proper first aid was taught.

“I mean come on Christine, how many times has someone come into the ER because of a paper cut.”

In the end, Stephen found himself quite ready to go to bed. He was tired and he wanted to go to sleep. But he couldn’t. His brain wouldn’t shut up, because over the course of the evening, a thought kept coming to him. He’d never been taught to meditate, never considered it, and yet he’d found himself doing it. It felt … strangely natural, just like being in an OR. He sat up. Was this another oddity for his list? It felt right, but he’d never done it before so why should it? It had been easier to think, and it wasn’t too different from the focus he put himself into for surgeries. He closed his eyes, letting his surgeons mantra take him back into the focus. His mind was clear. His thoughts drifted around him and he could sift through them like pages of a book. As he did so, he realised that these weren’t his thoughts, not really. He caught glimpses of two red cloaks, one torn, the other not. New York all twisted and bent out of shape. A shock of cold and pain ran down his arms, but there was a disconnect. These flashes and images, they weren’t his thoughts, not his memories, but he felt like it was. It was like he was remembering things which someone else had seen. Whoever it was looked just like him though.

“Our world is surrounded by countless worlds that make up the multiverse.”

The voice sounded like him. The image that came to mind was not him however. Someone was sitting across from him but in the haze of the not memory he couldn’t tell who it was.

“The Masters of the Mystic Arts can harness energy drawn from these worlds...”

Arms moved about. As they moved, bright orange energy followed.

“...to do all kinds of things. We can create physical constructs, alter the nature of matter, travel great distances...”

The energy was forming an intricate shape. Stephen could feel the sensation of it in the air.

“...in short, to do magic.”

The completed glyph shone brightly, illuminating the person across from him. That couldn’t be. It was Dr Maximoff. But how could she be there, listening to him prattle on about magic and other worlds and nonsense? Stephen’s eyes opened wide. Dr Maximoff had her work cut out for her because he was definitely going mad. But he remembered the sensation of making the glyph, how the energy felt as it hung in the air. But magic isn’t real Stephen. There was no way he’d be able to make something like that. He was a man of science, of real and tangible things … so as a man of science he’d have to make sure. Holding his hands out in front of him, he did feel a certain ridiculousness. If this didn’t work, he’d have just been waving his hands around. Luckily there was no one to see it. Closing his eyes, Stephen focused on the feel of the energy, moving his hands like he’d seen in that image. When he finished, he didn’t open them. This is ridiculous Stephen, stop indulging this fantasy that you’ve managed to construct for yourself. This is all just a poor response to the stress of being a doctor, one that you’re going through treatment to resolve. Treatment that you’d be embarrassed for anyone to find out about. Imagine what people would say if they heard you going on about magic. You’d be a laughing stock. But still, this was just to humour himself. He cracked open an eye and shot backwards, nearly slamming into the headboard. Floating in the air was a bright orange glyph, just like he’d seen. It faded but Stephen didn’t care.

That was magic.

But magic isn’t real.

But there is was.

It … couldn’t be.

If that was real, then maybe everything else is real too.

Don’t be ridiculous.

Needless to say, Stephen didn’t get any sleep that night. If that was magic, and he’d seen that in a weird memory from someone else in his head, then maybe he wasn’t going crazy. There had to be something wrong, but if it wasn’t him then maybe it was … the world that was wrong.

 

“I heard you’ve taken some time of work” Dr Maximoff said.

It was a couple of days later, and Stephen was at his next appointment. Sitting in Dr Maximoff’s home office, Stephen had made an excuse not to stay long. Something about needing some more time to think things through. Dr Maximoff had agreed but still wanted to meet.

“Yes, I thought it was appropriate. I want to be 100% for my patients, which I can’t be right now” he said.

Yes, that was it. It absolutely had nothing to do with him nearly freaking out over what he did that he couldn’t bear to go in the next day. All morning he’d worried about it. Part of him thought he wasn’t going mad, but another part thought this was just further proof of his madness. Was it magic or just a hallucination? Dr Maximoff nodded at his response.

“That’s admirable” she said, “but I urge you to be careful. Taking time for yourself is a good thing, absolutely, but don’t shut yourself off completely. Being around other people will help in the long run.”

She sat back in her chair, her posture completely relaxed.

“I suppose we should get started then, since you can’t stay long” Dr Maximoff said.

Stephen nodded.

“Did you make a list?”

“Yes I did” Stephen said, pulling the paper out of his pocket.

“Excellent, is there anything in particular you’d like to start with?”

Stephen hesitated. He’d expanded on a few of the things on his list, fleshing them out in more detail from the flashes he’d seen. All of that would be very difficult to explain, so he gave her some of the easy ones. They talked through them, with Dr Maximoff pleased that Stephen had already given it some thought and tried to work through things himself. The conversation had Stephen on a knife edge. His brain was still trying to work through two sets of memories and figure out which were the real ones. It didn’t help that they both felt real. Finally however, the session came to an end.

“I think we made some real progress today Stephen. I’m impressed with your self discipline and introspection” Dr Maximoff said.

“Yes well, you need to be discipline to get through med school” Stephen said.

“I’m sure. It’ll definitely make things easier for both of us” Dr Maximoff said.

She hesitate for a moment.

“Would I be able to see your list? It’ll help me to prepare for next time” she asked.

Now Stephen hesitated. There wasn’t a way he could think of to say no, but he didn’t want to. How would she react to things he wrote about, specifically about Billy? If he was going mad, then this would be the perfect way to get help. But if he wasn’t, then the consequences surely wouldn’t be very good for him. Nervously, he handed the paper over.

“Please, don’t judge me for what I wrote” Stephen said.

“Of course not” Dr Maximoff said kindly.

They arranged a time for their next session, but Stephen had no idea if he could even do it. Throughout their conversation, he couldn’t help but think of the image of Dr Maximoff sat across from him while he made that glyph. She seemed too ordinary. How could she be any different? As they stood to leave, there was a knock on the door and Jonah poked his head in.

“I’m not interrupting, am I” he asked.

“We just finished. What’s up?” Dr Maximoff asked.

“The contractors have called wanting to ask about the work, and you know what they’re like. They’ll only talk to you” Jonah said.

There was a phone in his hand.

“I’m so sorry about this Stephen” Dr Maximoff said.

“No no, it’s fine. Take it” he said.

Dr Maximoff thanked him and left the room, taking the phone from Jonah as she did so.

“I guess I’ll see you out then” Jonah said pleasantly.

Stephen followed after him, even though he knew the way out from the last time he was here. Looking at Jonah, he couldn’t help but stare. The image he had in his head of the man was certainly very different to the one just in front of him. The calm demeanour was the same, but there was a distinct lack of … well, colour was the only was he could describe it.

“So how’d a therapist find herself with a, um?” Stephen wondered aloud, though he tailed off, “sorry I don’t actually what it is you do.”

In his head, he knew how Dr Maximoff and Jonah had met, but that was completely ridiculour and not at all feasible. Jonah chuckled lightly.

“I teach at the university.”

Stephen didn’t expect him to go on, since it had been a bit of a rude question. To his surprise, Jonah continued.

“We met in Sokovia. I was on leave, doing some charity work in the country. Wanda was working as a counsellor there. I guess you could say we hit it off.”

“And made a home for yourselves here” Stephen said, to which Jonah nodded.

Before either of them could speak, Billy passed them. The unnerving protectionism rose up in Stephen again but he pushed it down.

“You going out?” Jonah asked.

“Yeah” the teen said offhandedly as he pulled on his coat.

“To see that cute boy at the diner?” Jonah commented lightly.

Billy threw his dad a glare. Wait, what? There was a ‘cute boy’ in Billy’s life and he didn’t know about it? Stop it Stephen, you shouldn’t know about it.

“What cute boy?” Dr Maximoff asked, coming down the stairs behind them.

Billy blushed, hiding it semi-successfully as he finished putting on his coat.

“Nothing. I’m just going to meet up with Peter” Billy said.

With a final wave to his parents, he was gone. Stephen also made his farewells, not really wanting to linger in the house with people who made him feel strange.

 

Back at home, Stephen found himself meditating once more. It was relaxing, and let him clear his head. Sifting through his thoughts, he focused in the ones about Dr Maximoff. Not the ones of her as a therapist, but the ones of her as someone else. There had to be some reason why he ‘remembered’ her when he did magic. The images flashed before his eyes, like looking through a haze at something constantly changing. There! The ‘memory’ of him making a glyph, the one where she’s sat opposite. It sounded like he was teaching her. He was a teacher of magic? Another image forced its way forward. Someone else was making a glyph, but the energy was blue and it did not seem to be coming as easily. Like ripples on water, the image changed again. Another person, the same glyph, but this time with red energy. The two visions clashed with one another. Blue and red. Red and blue. Finally, both people finished their glyphs, blue and red, side by side. In the flash of their completion, Stephen saw who they were. Dr Maximoff and Billy.

“So I taught you both?” Stephen said out loud.

He focused in, trying to find details. They both seemed to be in the same room. The room was ornately decorated. As he thought, more details become clearer and clearer, like he was remembering it better. But he wasn’t remembering, he was viewing it from afar. When he opened his eyes, his mind was still fixated on it. There was a building, somewhere, that he had taught magic in.

Don’t be so stupid Stephen. You’re going too far now in indulging this fantasy.

But if this is fantasy, how did he make that glyph? The voice of doubt was silent.

Stephen still wanted proof. A magical glyph might have been a hallucination, but a building he’d never been to before? If that was real, then he’d have his answer, once and for all. Without thinking more, he left his apartment. The streets weren’t too busy. Most people were just going about their business and not paying attention to him. His destination was clear in his mind, the building with the strange window in the roof. Seemingly on auto-pilot, he let himself walk the streets of New York, until eventually he stepped in Greenwich Village. This felt … right. He didn’t frequent this part of New York but it was familiar to him all the same. Yes, there was the diner with Mrs … Mrs … Stephen couldn’t remember the name, but if that was there then that must mean … Stephen rounded the corner to Bleecker Street. The familiarity was almost crushing him now. There it was. The building with the strange window. The final few steps to the front door were like walking through mud. He did it. He was here.

“This can’t be...” Stephen said, his voice indulging his minds disbelief.

He reached out to knock on the door but it opened wide, almost like it was inviting him in. Stephen hesitated. No. He needed to be sure, so with a faux confidence he stepped inside. The entrance hall was large. Stairs leading up and into the building rose imposingly in front of him. On pedestals around the hall were various items and artefacts that Stephen felt he should know the names of. Even if he could remember them, he wouldn’t be able to speak. His voice hadn’t joined his body inside yet. Through the grandeur of the room he was in, there was also a feeling of elation. This was it. He’d never been to this building before, yet Stephen had been able to find it. The details of the room were exactly as he thought they should be, leaving his mind reeling.

The door snapped shut with a bang. Stephen startled. The atmosphere of the room had somehow chilled considerably and he got the distinct impression he was being watched.

“You are trespassing!”

A voice echoed all around, rough and angry. Stephen whipped his head around, trying to find where it was coming from.

“Tell me stranger...” the voice said from behind him.

Stephen spun around. Where previously there was no one, there now stood a man. He was short, Asian, with a closely shaved head. HE was dressed in some kind of robe like tunic, but Stephen didn’t care. In his hand he held a carved wooden stick. The round horned top reminded reminded Stephen of a mace but down its length there was a glow that made it look like it had veins. The way the man wielded it and the look of thunder on his face told Stephen that he was definitely willing to use whatever it was.

“...how did you find the sanctum?” the man finished.

Images flooded Stephen’s head. This man was in a library, telling him he wasn’t ready. He was stood with him at a pedestal as they both studied a small bronze artefact. They at tubs of ice cream and rated the flavours. That could only mean this person was…

“Wong.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was surprisingly productive when it came to writing this chapter. Hopefully that means good things.
> 
> Thank you very much for reading. Please let me know what you thought.


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